The Triumphant Rise and the Mighty Fall
by Shadowx505
Summary: With the apparent end drawing near, our hero thinks upon what caused him to end up in this dire situation starting with the day of Helgen's destruction.
1. Death Is Coming (Getting Stabbed Hurts)

_The pain._

 _The pain of the biting cold against my skin._

 _The agony of numerous injuries that covered my body._

The worst though was the anguish of losing my companion. Lydia was not only my housecarl, but she was also my friend. We had been through enough that it was no longer just a simple thane/housecarl relationship. It was hard to even continue physically but even more so with the mental image of her death playing continuously within my head.

I told her not to do it, but she wanted to distract those Thalmor bastards so that _"the Dragonborn could save Nirn"._

I tried to stop her. I whispered from our hidden shelter "Don't do it Lydia, they haven't found us yet."

Lydia responded: "They will soon; they can't be allowed to kill you, Max."

She wasn't wrong. The Thalmor Justiciars were just a few meters away from us and rapidly closing in on our position. That didn't change my stance though, even if we couldn't both make it, I had to try at least.

She quickly stood with her sword and shield bared. I tried to reach for her, but she was too fast and my wounds had weakened me. Lydia was a sight to behold while fighting, a tall and muscular Nord woman covered from head to toe with steel plated armor and her battle cry was one which rivaled the roar of a Saber Cat. She didn't so much as attack an enemy much as she drove straight through them with sheer strength and force.

As soon as she reached the first Justiciar, her sword was buried into his chest and she was already searching for her next target. A bolt of lightning shot out from a Justiciar's hand striking Lydia's back as she shouted out in pain from the impact. She turned and rushed towards her challenger, shield outstretched and anticipating impact. The blow of the shield along with the rough soil and rocks of the cliff crushed the Thalmor's skull. The Thalmor were now forming a circle around Lydia in an attempt to extinguish her promptly.

Lydia picked up the sword of the now caved-skulled Thalmor and rushed toward another. Her sword swung in a graceful but violent arch toward their legs. The Thalmor soldier ended up on the ground howling a bloodcurdling scream, allowing Lydia to strike with a finishing blow into his chest.

I was gaining hope that we would make it with three Thalmor down in the span of under-thirty seconds but then it came.

The Justiciar unit's captain, Thiliniuth.

He had finally got a hit in with a powerful lightning blast. Lydia was thrown back with such a vicious force that she struggled to stand again.

Thiliniuth demanded "Where is Maximus Blackwell, the supposed Dragonborn and threat to the Thalmor? You pathetic Nord, I demand you answer me this instance!"

Lydia shouted "Leave!"

Those were her last words before Thiliniuth virtually disintegrated Lydia with an awe-inspiring shock of lightning as I struggled to move away from the Thalmor and follow her last wish.

That moment was stuck in my mind as I stumbled along through the cold wilderness, hoping to avoid the Justiciar search party.

I fell to the ground. The icy snow gnawed at the skin on my face. I knew I needed to move but the darkness seeping in the corner of my eyes was so appealing at the moment. My attempt to try and stand again ended up in complete failure as numbness flooded my being.

I wasn't going to make it, that much was certain to me. I was now spending my precious time wondering how it went so wrong. My mind drifted to where and when this entire journey started. When I was called here. My mind was wandering to that faithful day in Helgen at which my head was almost removed from my body.

It's surprisingly easy to relive the past while unconscious as I would find.


	2. The Time I Almost Died Before This

For me to say it was interesting on what happened that day in Helgen would be the understatement of a lifetime.

I opened my eyes to see the sun which was blindingly bright. I could see magnificent trees surrounding us while we followed along the path. I could hear the rolling of wheels against cobblestone and the clacking of hooves on ground.

I was on a cart with four other men around me. There was a thin and lanky man with reddish brown hair in ragged clothes placed directly in front of me. Next to the lanky man a tall husky man, in what appeared to be quilted homemade armour with a blue sash around it, was sitting. The most interesting person on this carriage was seated beside me though. He was bound like the rest of us; however, he was also gagged. He had long blond hair with braids running down the sides and a goatee. The only one not bound was the driver who was an Imperial soldier which was wearing their standard scout's armour.

The warrior startled me by speaking, "Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

The lanky man looked at the warrior in response with an aggravated look on his face, "Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. You there... You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

The warrior reacted nonchalantly, "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

Our driver barked back at us, "Shut up back there!"

We sat in silence for a while after that.

I started looking around to see where we were being taken on this ride. I saw a sign that said the name of cities and towns like the one we were headed, Helgen.

"And what's wrong with him, huh?" the thief asked in a hushed tone in connection to the gagged man.

The warrior answered sharply, "Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King."

Suddenly realization had dawned upon me, we were headed to our death by the soon to be lack of our heads.

The horse thief seemed to be coming to a similar conclusion as me when he exclaimed, "Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." Was all that the Stormcloak rebel had said in response.

I could hear the panic rising in the thief's voice, "No, this can't be happening! This isn't happening!"

The rebel was attempting to calm the thief by speaking to him in a soft voice, "Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?"

"Why do you care?" The horse thief shot back angrily.

The Stormcloak said sympathetically, "A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

"Rorikstead. I'm... I'm from Rorikstead."

As our cart reached the town Helgen the gates swung open forcibly. I heard the murmur of the town's folk chatting about the upcoming execution and the soldiers making last minutes preparations for us to sent to Aetherius.

An Imperial solider rushed up to a man seated upon a horse who happened to be wearing the armour of a general. He had gray hair with a slight balding spot but he was also a commanding presence and fit for someone of his age. Next to the general was a regal yet intimidating Altmer wearing the signature black robes with golden trim on the edges.

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" those were the words I could make out being said by the Imperial soldier.

"Good. Let's get this over with." The general replied.

The horse thief started begging, "Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me."

The Stormcloak started, "Look at him, General Tullius, the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this. This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

Finally, we had reached the stopping point for our final ride.

A woman, in steel Imperial captain's armour, had appeared and started barking orders, "Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!"

The thief had started to freak out again at those words, "Why are we stopping?"

The Stormcloak seemed to be content with his fate, "Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."

The panic had taken the horse thief's voice, "No! Wait! We're not rebels!"

"Face your death with some courage, thief."

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"

His babbling was cut short by the captain's shouting, "Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time!"

A man in Imperial scout armour came close to us holding a board with paper placed upon it and a quill in his other hand.

"Empire loves their damn lists." The warrior said with the distain in his voice apparent.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." the man holding the list said as Ulfric stepped forward.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric.", the Stormcloak had a bittersweet tone in his voice as he said those words.

The man with the list continued, "Ralof of Riverwood."

The Stormcloak stepped forward as his name was called.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

The horse thief Lokir had now started to become anxious, "No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" He said as he attempted to flee from the grounds.

The captain gave a warning to Lokir, "Halt!"

"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir shouted with fear in his voice.

"Archers!" The captain ordered.

The Imperial archers readied their bows, drew from their quivers, and let loose their arrows into Lokir. As soon as they impacted, he had been knocked to the ground, and Lokir was now dead.

"Anyone else feel like running?" the captain said almost mockingly.

The man with the list had turned around after viewing the spectacle of a failed escape, "Wait. You there. Step forward. Who are you?"

When I answered that question that day, I didn't know I would be wrong. I thought I was simply Maximus Blackwell, a curious person who got bored and wandered the woods until I ended up at being ambushed with the Stormcloaks at the border.

I didn't think I would be this supposed "Dragonborn". I never wanted to be considered a threat to anyone's political stability. I never thought I would end up dying with my face down in the snow bleeding out from wounds gathered fighting Thalmor.

I didn't plan to close my eyes and pass out either, but the darkness was over taking me. The cold was weakening me.

Once I had passed out I started dreaming about what happened at Helgen. I started thinking about what had changed the game so much that I ended up in this deadly situation.

The only thing powerful enough to be more terrifying than the civil war that was raging across Skyrim.

The dragons had returned from their slumber.

The world eater attacked Helgen that day and he has forever changed Tamriel if it even survives his hunger.

It probably wouldn't though. There is one thing said to have a chance at stopping him, me. The dying Imperial who was passed out in the snow.

If that was Nirn's last hope, I don't think we have much hope.

Ironically, this isn't the only time I've been in a situation when there was zero chance of survival. This time, however, isn't liable to send a destructive force of nature to distract my chasers.

The day that started all this started, for me at least, when I was asked who I was.


	3. Dragons Aren't Nice Rescuers

"My name is Maximus Blackwell."

As soon as I said my namem the man holding the list looked at me with confusion,"You're a long way from the Imperial City. What're you doing in Skyrim?" He turned to his captain, "Captain. What should we do? He's not on the list."

When he said that, my heart flickered with hope. I could possibly get out of this somehow without any repercussions or risk on my life as I wasn't a criminal against the Empire.

Those thoughts were crushed though as the captain had other plans, "Forget the list. He goes to the block."

With a dreary head, the man holding the list responded, "By your orders, Captain. Follow the Captain, prisoner."

We were motioned to move out from behind the carts and into the center of Helgen. There was two watch towers that I could see. One tower was to the right of us, as we walked, it had the archers that had shot Lokir standing near it's doorway to deter any runners. The second was directly behind the chopping block.

A towering man was standing in front of it. He was wearing chainmail robes and an executioners mask. The headsman's axe was gargantuan in size, to be heavy enough to remove a head in a single swing. At his feet, a stone with a groove for a head to be placed. It was covered in grime from the dried blood that had accumulated over time and use.

General Tullius had started towards us prisoners and stopped directly in front of Ulfric, "Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Ulfric starting trying to speak through his gag but all that came out were muffled grunts.

Tullius continued with his speech, "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace!"

I was trying not to think about what was happening at this moment. It was hard realizing death was coming for you and nothing could be done to save myself.

I was startled by a powerful but distant roar came from behind the mountains. The man with the list also seemed to hold my concern.

"What was that?", he had asked.

Tullius had replied with obvious annoyance at how long this was taking, "It's nothing. Carry on."

The captain was eager to continue with this execution, "Yes, General Tullius.", she turned to a barricade, "Give them their last rites!"

A priest came out from behind a wall in monk's orange and yellow robes.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved..."

An impatient Stormcloak had decided to step forward, "For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with."

"As you wish." The priest had replied curtly.

The captain had grabbed his arm and led him to chopping stone. She pushed him forcibly down to the ground and smooshed his face in the brick.

"Come on, I haven't got all morning." The Stormcloak said, "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

The headsman swung his heavy axe into the air and slammed it against the Stormcloak's neck, and, in one fell swoop, the Stormcloak's head was no longer attached to his torso.

The town of Helgen had exploded with noise after that. The Stormcloak prisoners were shouting in outrage. The citizens of the town cheered for justice.

Next to me, Ralof had spoken solemnly, "As fearless in death as he was in life."

The captain had turned to look at us prisoners. She pointed in my direction and shouted, "Next! The renegade from Cyrodiil!"

Another roar from the mountains.

"There it is again. Did you hear that?" An Imperial soldier had exclaimed.

The captain was not phased and instead repeated her order, "I said next prisoner!"

The man who held the list said empathetically, "To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy."

I walked slowly to the brick in an attempt to prolong the inevitable, but I reached it too soon. The captain slammed me onto the stone and I felt the mix of dried and recent blood that covered it on my face. The headsman raised his axe high above his head once again. I had thought I was witnessing my final sight in the world when, suddenly, an ear-shattering roar had come once more.

A terrifying winged and black scaled creature had landed upon the tower behind the headsman. The town's people were panicking and screaming in surprise and horror at its sudden appearance. The dragon shouted another roar, but it wasn't like the others. It had a powerful force behind it. It was imbued with magical strength that knocked anyone in the vicinity in the direction the shout was headed.

Its shout's force had caused me to black out for a few seconds. Once I had awoken, the town seemed be in complete and utter ruin. The sky was raining literal fire, half of the buildings were in embers, and bodies were strewn about the townscape.

Ralof, noticing my consciousness, called out to me, "Hey! Imperial, get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!"

I followed him into the tower that was near the archer's corpses.

Ralof asked a recently ungagged Ulfric Stormcloak, "Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages." Ulfric cryptically replied and then he snapped, "We need to move. Now!"

"Up through the tower, let's go!" Ralof suggested.

Two Stormcloaks, along with me and Ralof, went up the stairs at break-neck speed. We could hear the roars and shouts of the dragons, the cracklings of the burning town, and the screams of the citizens. The dragon had attacked the wall of the tower as we raced up the stairs. There was a collapse from the top of the tower and the wall blasted inwards, crushing the Stormcloaks above us.

We were trapped as going outside again would get us burned alive and the ruble was blocking the top floor of the tower.

Another shout came from the dragon but this time it had a distinctive pattern to it

"Yol…Toor…Shull!"

After that, we could see a breath of fire coming from the dragon's mouth as we peered out of the recent hole in the tower.

Ralof pointed through the gape in the wall, "See that inn on the on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going! Go! We'll follow when we can!"

I was going to respond, but Ralof had already started his way back down the stairs. The gap between the inn and the tower was a few meters at least. It was also probably full of wooden splinters considering that the roof was caved in and the floor was damaged. I didn't want to jump. A fear of heights can do that to a person. I also didn't want to be stuck here where the dragon might come back and finish what the Imperials had tried to do just a few minutes earlier. I decided on my course of action.

One. Two. Three.

"Oooww! Damn it!"

When jumping from a height, it is always a good idea to have the correct form and to do a roll, to disperse the force upon a greater distance. I did not do that.

What I did do was run out the towers hole and land legs braced for stiff impact. The result was a sprained ankle on my part.

I still had to move though, regardless of my pain, because a deadly dragon was still flying around and I was in a _wooden_ building while _fire_ was raining from the sky. I stood up and started to make my way to the hole in the inn's second floor. I slowly lowered myself through it to the ground level. I winced as my foot hit the ground, but I continued out the door to see where I could escape to.

I saw the Imperial soldier who had held the list of prisoners with his sword raised.

"Haming, you need to get over here. Now! Torolf!" He had shouted.

A little boy ran towards the soldier as the dragon was preparing to land on a man.

"Gods... Everyone get back!" the soldier exclaimed at the sight of the dragon crushing a man underneath its claw.

"Yol...Toor...Shul!" those words rang fourth from the dragon once again as flames were expelled from its snout.

The soldier was pulling the child, Haming, back towards him and a man in simple iron armour.

He looked at me "Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way.", turning to the man in iron armour, "Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join their defense."

My only other option was waiting here for the dragon to make me a tasty roasted piece of barbeque, so I followed the Imperial.

We could hear the man behind us shout as we rushed towards the cover of a wall, "Gods guide you, Hadvar."

Powerful wings could be heard above us as we went along the wall's path.

"Yol... Toor... Shul", the dragon had landed on the wall behind us, nearly scorching us as it shouted fire from towards the buildings stood before us. The dragon launched itself back into the sky to rain destruction upon the town of Helgen once more.

"Quickly, follow me!" Harvard urged.

We rushed through the burning charred wreckage of a building to get away from the smoke and the flames and out in the open. We could see a squad of Imperial soldiers and battlemages trying to fend of the dragon and the general barking commands until he noticed us exit the flaming remains.

Tulius shouted," Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we're leaving!"

"It's you and me, prisoner. Stay close!" Hadvar had called back as we sprinted toward Helgen's keep.

The blond rebel was seen rushing in our direction, "Ralof! You damned traitor. Out of my way!"

They stood facing each other at an impasse. A very obvious bitterness towards each other was prominent in their faces.

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time." Ralof spat.

They stared each other down, attempting to intimidate the other into backing down. It was funny if you thought about it. A dragon was soaring in the sky spouting flames from its mouth and yet here these two men were holding a staring contest about a war that seemed petty in comparison to the situation.

"Alright", I piped up, startling them for a second, "What if we both go into the keep and worry about this 'thing' later because I kinda want to not die if at all possible today."

Hadvar responded, "I can't let them go, they're traitors to the Empire."

"The Empire is the one that betrayed us when they signed that dammed treaty!" Ralof retaliated.

"You two are dense, aren't you? Look at the sky and tell me if that thing looks friendly. If so, then we can stay and have a chat here on this warm, sunny day, or we can enter the keep together and figure out the next move. You may be on opposite sides of a war, but a dragon is many times more deadly and important than that so let's go!"

I turned on my heel and headed to the keep door hoping they would follow me because I wanted these annoying bonds off my hands.

I slammed into the thick wooden door of the keep to and enter the building. I was moving it, albeit slowly because my foot was making it difficult to run around much less push a heavy door. I heard footsteps come closer to me and the door move faster. I glanced around me and saw the two men, Ralof, in his shoddy homemade armour with a blue sash, and Hadvar, in his standard Imperial scout armour, shoving the door open.

When I entered that keep with Hadvar and Ralof, I made two allies that would be friends for... well... life considering that this was almost the end of mine.

It was nice to have companionship considering most of my life, up until that point, had consisted of reading books, hunting, cleaning, and farming in or around family's cabin until they left me. Their leaving caused me to start my trek into the wilderness that ended up with my capture at the hand of the Empire and lead me here.

I really wish I had bothered to learn restoration spells. That would be a life-saver, literally in this case, but I decided against it because I had other things to learn or do. That was a mistake on my part but too late now. It was time to accept my fate, but it's always been hard for someone to give up when faced with their own death, regardless of the odds. You'll always end up thinking about how you could've changed it to make it work out better, maybe you could have killed someone who was a threat to you. Maybe protect someone who could have been an ally. There was too many possibilities and never enough time, especially for me because my blood was starting to puddle around me even as I tried holding it in with my working arm while fading in and out of consciousness again.


	4. Light At The End Of The Collapsed Tunnel

After the door was opened enough, I rushed inside. Ralof and Hadvar were left to close the door as I limped to a chair.

We appeared to be in a barracks.

There were rows of beds on one side of the room and tables and chairs on the other. In the corner, there was a few weapon racks, some clothing folded up on a chest, and armor set up on racks.

"Maximus.", Hadvar said, "What are we going to do? We're both here but you've not said why you wanted both of us here instead of letting me deal with this traitor."

Ralof interjected, "I should be the one dealing with you, Imperial lapdog! I thought you trustworthy till you betrayed your country for those Imperial bastards."

"Enough!", I shouted, "We do not have time for this pointless bickering. My ankle hurts, these bindings are chaffing, and we have a _bloody dragon out there_! We are going to get out of here together. We can worry about who hates who later."

The room got quiet and the only noises around were from the chaos outside.

Hadvar spoke up, "Okay. What's our course of action then?"

"We're getting out of here. First, I need these ropes off my hands. Second, I'm looking around the room for anything useful. Third, we're heading through this place and looking for a back door, so we don't have to run into the dragon. Any objections?"

"No…", Ralof and Hadvar replied simultaneously.

"Now someone come here and cut these bloody ropes off!", I demanded.

Hadvar walked towards me and drew his knife. I thrust my hands outwards, and he cut the bondage off my arms.

"That feels so much better.", I exclaimed while rubbing my recently freed wrists, "Hey, what's that?"

I pointed to a black leather belt. It had pouches laced around it, a journal held in a wrap on the side along with a rolled-up piece of paper, and a few rings of leather that appeared to be used for holding weapons.

"I've seen this before", Hadvar commented.

"Where? In your Thalmor master's bedchamber?", Ralof replied sharply.

"No.", Hadvar responded, "When the Thalmor came to Helgen with Tulius, they handed him the belt as a gift for the capture of Ulfric."

"Why would they do that?", I asked while changing out of my rags into clothes I found when searching the room.

"I don't know. Wait…", Hadvar picked up a note near by the belt, "It's supposedly enchanted with a small pocket realm to carry whatever you wish, as long as you'd be able to carry that much regularly. The journal will never run out of pages nor will the inkwell lose ink. The map has shifting markings to fit new information and the location you're at, and finally, the straps change placement around your body to fit whatever weapon you're carrying."

Ralof chuckled, "Those damned elves with their magical gifts, like any self-respecting Nord would trust anything enchanted"

I facepalmed, "Hadvar, hand me the bag. Ralof, check the hall to make sure it's clear."

"Fine", Ralof said before heading down the hall towards the antechamber.

"Here.", Hadvar placed the belt in my hand.

I buckled it on me, grabbed a simple iron dagger and sword, and left the barrack with Hadvar.

We caught up with Ralof as he was attempting to open a locked iron door. It was difficult catching up to someone with a head start while you have an injured ankle. Ralof seemed to be getting a little frustrated at the door.

"Damn this door! We can't get through!", Ralof shouted.

Hadvar was retrieving a key from his pouch, "Yes, we can."

He unlocked the door for us.

The trio of us continued along the keep through its rooms. We went through the store room, the torture chamber, and the prisoner cells. We didn't find much trouble along the way; however, that was only caused by everyone we ran across being deceased.

The dead people, while slightly disturbing, were also good for adding supplies to our stocks. A few regenerative potions of health, stamina, and magicka, some full water pouches, a longbow plus a few arrows for me, and a shield (that was also for me). There was also a number of gold Septims, books (both of the traditional kind and of magical spells), lockpicks, and mage robes with some form of enchantment imbued in it. We stored most of this in my newly acquired belt pouch.

We eventually made it to a crumbled wall which lead out into a cave system.

"Are we going the right way? I don't want to get trapped in a damp cave. I'd rather die to the dragon if that's the way I'm going to go!", Ralof declared in exasperation.

Hadvar said calmly, "We are. These caves lead out to the wilderness just a few meters away from the path outside Helgen. We sealed them. That way no intruders could get into the fort, but that dragon's rampage broken the sealings down."

"Lovely.", I interjected, "As much as I enjoy the history lesson, I would rather get out of here. I don't exactly like the idea of me dying here right now."

"Yeah, let's go.", Hadvar responded.

After a run in with a few Frostbite Spiders (and me finding a random bag of coins), we made it to a large chamber that a stream ran through. There was also a sleeping brown bear within said chamber.

"Get down! See that bear up there? We should try to sneak past it", Hadvar whispered while crouching down.

Ralof retorted, "Scared of a little walking fur, are you?"

"Get down, Ralof! We don't want to deal with a bear while escaping a dragon.", I commanded in a hushed tone.

"As you wish, my liege.", Ralof replied sarcastically as he was joining us in the lowered position.

We slowly made our way around the resting bear. This was somewhat difficult with three people, one of which was reluctant to do anything involving stealth. After getting past the bear, we headed towards the direction of the light that signaled our intended exit.

The light of the sun was blinding, especially since we had been in the keep, and its cavern, for quite a while.

I had gotten hopeful. That light made me think I had a chance, and I kept thinking I had one till I reached this point with me bleeding out from my wounds, lying face down in the snow, and unconscious for most of the time. I realized how foolish I was then.

Now I understand; I always lacked a chance at escape. I did, however, have a change of scenery for each daunting task I faced. I thought I could stop the inevitable by keeping my friends close to support me. I thought they could help me face these threats, but I only ended up getting them hurt, Lydia being the most recent and painful example.

I was going to fail her, and I wasn't even conscious to be able to try and continue her last wishes. I failed Lydia, and I was about to fail Nirn.

I only had myself to blame. I had believed in that damned light when it was a façade, but I continued towards it anyways.


	5. Riverwood

It was bright. The day was sunny, cloudless, and had a nice breeze to it. The forest and ground were covered with snow near our cave exit. This was an effect of Helgen's location upon of the many mountains of Skyrim.

I would have said this was a good day, if I could forget about the fact that I almost got decapitated and then burnt to a crisp by a dragon. The injured ankle wasn't helping, but I didn't want to sit down to deal with it till we were in a safe location. This meant I had to keep walking to wherever the nearest town was, but this was not a very fun prospect.

We only made it a few meters till we heard the dragon fly overhead our location. It roared as went near us.

"Get down!", Hadvar shouted while rushing to get behind a rock.

Ralof and I followed him quickly to get to the cover. The dragon flew above the mountain for a few seconds till it went off into the distance.

"Is it gone?", Ralof asked.

"I think so.", Hadvar answered, "We should warn Riverwood."

"Fuck! My sister's in Riverwood. That damned dragon better not go near it otherwise…", Ralof exclaimed in outrage.

"Otherwise what?", I interrupted, "You'll annoy the dragon to death with your pathetic insults? That's a bloody dragon, and you want to go fight it?"

Ralof objected, "She's my sister!"

"No!", I shouted, "We're getting to Riverwood to tell them there's a dragon and hope it's not there by the time we are. If the dragon is there, we go somewhere else because I'm not dying because you want to act tough."

"He's not wrong, Ralof. We need to worry about making sure people know about the dragon instead of dying to it.", Hadvar interjected.

"Fine. We're going to Riverwood first though.", Ralof accepted.

Hadvar declared, "So it's settled."

We walked in silence after that. The snow was helping my ankle a small amount, but it still hurt more than I preferred.

Eventually, we made it to the road, but we didn't see anyone else coming from or to Helgen on the road.

As we descended from small mountain Helgen rested upon, the temperature got warmer. There was no longer snow covering the ground. Grass and flowers appeared. We soon reached the bend in the road which signaled the river.

Three pillars were placed at the edge of the bend. They appeared to be ceremonial. Each had a different man engraved on them.

"These are the Guardian Stones.", Hadvar commented.

"The what?", I asked.

"The Guardian Stones.", he answered, "They're three of the standing stones."

"Yeah, anyone with respect to Nord heritage would know that.", Ralof said.

I ignored Ralof's comment, "What do they do?"

"Nothing.", Hadvar replied, "They do nothing for most people."

Ralof corrected, "That's not true. Nord heroes often recounted how they prayed to each and got imbued with power and knowledge."

"Yeah, but those aren't most people. Me and my uncle, Alvor, came up here when I was just reaching manhood. They didn't imbue me with anything.", Hadvar said.

I commented, "Interesting. As much as I enjoyed this lesson, we should hurry to Riverwood before the dragon comes back."

"Yes, we should definitely hurry.", Ralof continued forward.

We followed along the river trail to reach Riverwood. The day felt surprisingly cheerful and bright still. The atmosphere of the environment was a sharp contrast to the dreary events of earlier today.

We reached the entrance arch of Riverwood. There was some elderly women in the center of the village's road.

"A dragon! I saw a dragon!", The women said frantically.

"What is it now, mother?", A blond man asked as he was leaving a house.

The women responded, "I saw a dragon!"

"Mother, enough of this nonsense. There hasn't been dragons in these parts for hundreds of years.", the man uttered.

The women continued, "I saw it! It was big and black like the night!"

The man, exasperated, said, "Come inside mother."

His mother followed him into the house.

After witnessing the man and his mother's conversation, I turned to Ralof and Hadvar, "What's our next move?"

"I'm going to go check on my sister.", Ralof declared.

"Okay", I responded, "but come back here in a few hours because we need to plan. Hadvar?"

"What about my uncle?", Hadvar suggested, "He's the blacksmith right over there."

He pointed to the forge directly near the river.

I questioned, "What about him?"

"He could help us tell the townspeople, and he'd let us rest in his home. You would have time to deal with your ankle finally.", Hadvar answered.

I stated, "I can work with this. Ralof is heading to his sister, and Hadvar and I are going to speak to… Alvor? Is that the right uncle?"

Hadvar nodded.

"And we're meeting here, by the arch, in a few hours to decide what we're doing next. Does everyone got that?", I affirmed.

"Yes.", they said together.

This was the first time we actually started working together. Until that point, we just happened to be together physically, but we never agreed to do anything.

I'm not saying we were a team then, not by a longshot, but we decided upon meeting back there later.

I started coughing. When I finished, I noticed there was a metallic taste my mouth, so I spit it out.

Blood.

I looked around and realize I was laying in what could be described as a crimson puddle. I put my arm that wasn't holding a massive gash in my side on the ground and tried to get up.

I rose a little, and then I fell back into the bloody snow. It got harder to breath, and I drifted back into unconsciousness.


	6. We're Off To See The Jarl

Ralof left across a wooden walkway that went over the river to a mill. Hadvar and I continued into town till we got to the forge.

"Uncle Alvor! Hello!", Hadvar exclaimed.

"Hadvar? What are you doing here? Are you on leave from…", Alvor noticed Hadvar's disheveled appearance, "Shor's Bones! What happened to you, boy? Are you in trouble?"

"Shh. Uncle, please. Keep your voice down. I'm fine, but we should go inside to talk.", Hadvar said.

"What's going on?", he finally noticed me as well, "And who's this?"

"He's a friend. Saved my life, in fact. Come on, I'll explain everything but we need to go inside."

Hadvar saying I saved his life is quite rich considering all I did was carry a magical belt bag and tell him and Ralof to stop bickering.

Alvor agreed, "Okay, okay. Come inside, then. Sigrid will get you something to eat, and you can tell me all about it."

We headed to Alvor's house.

As we went through the door, Alvor called, "Sigrid! We have company!"

Sigrid came up from the basement, "Hadvar! We've been so worried about you. Come on, you two must be hungry. Sit down and I'll get you something to eat."

I sat eagerly at that suggestion.

"Now then, boy, what's the big mystery?', Alvor asked, "What are you doing here looking like you lost an argument with a cave bear?"

Ironically, that was one of the things we didn't do. We avoided that little problem by sneaking around the cave bear.

Hadvar started to explain while I examined my ankle, ""I don't know where to start. You know I was assigned to General Tullius's guard. We were stopped in Helgen when we were attacked by...a dragon."

"A dragon? That's ridiculous. You aren't drunk, are you boy?"

Sigrid interjected, ""Husband. Let him tell his story."

"Not much more to tell.", Hadvar continued, "The dragon flew over and just wrecked the whole place. Mass confusion. I don't know if anyone else got out alive. I doubt I'd have made it out if not for my friend here. I need to warn Solitude of what happened at Helgen, and we need to warn anyone else of the dragon attack. I thought you could help us out. Food, supplies, a place to stay."

I pulled out one of the health potions we grabbed from the keep and drank it.

 _"_ Of course! Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of mine. I'd be glad to help however I can.", Alvor said while turning towards me, "Like I said, I'm glad to help however I can, but I need your help. We need your help. The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose. Riverwood is defenseless...You need to get word to Jarl Balgruuf to send whatever soldiers he can. If you do this for me, I'll be in your debt _."_

A little girl, who I assumed to be Alvor's daughter, rushed up the basement stairs to us.

"Hadvar! Did you really see a dragon? What did it look like? Did it have big teeth?", the girl exclaimed.

Sigrid turned to the girl, "Hush, child. Don't pester your cousin."

Alvor looked at us, "Well, I'd better get back to work. You two make yourselves at home."

He exited through the door.

Sigrid started cooking over the fireplace to prepare our stew as we waited in silence.

I waited for the healing potion to take full effect because most traditional potions (barring specialized ones) have a delay on the reaction.

After a few minutes, I asked Hadvar, "You're wanting to go warn Solitude directly?"

"Aye, the Legion will be able to figure out how to deal with the dragons.", Hadvar answered.

I thought for a second, "They wouldn't."

Hadvar, puzzled, "What do you mean?"

"They, like everyone else, have not seen dragons alive. The Blades fell if I'm remembering my Great War history right. The Empire has no way of dealing with the dragons because of that."

"Who do you think would know what to do then?"

"That's what we should figure out; however, we are going to warn Whiterun about the dragon attack first."

"Okay, but if we can't find someone to help, we're going to the Legion. I'm willing to join with a traitorous Stormcloak if it means helping the citizens of the Empire, but I'm not deserting if the Legion is the best bet."

"Deal. We go to the Legion if they end up being the best chance, but first we need to make sure we can find people with resources and info on dragons before we try that."

Sigrid scooped some of the stew she was preparing into wooden bowls, "Here you two go."

"Thank you, Aunt Sigrid", Hadvar

I nodded in affirmation.

We ate in silence until we finished our meals, and it was time for us to meet Ralof.

We said farewell to Sigrid and her daughter as we exited the house. I walked ahead of Hadvar because my leg was starting to feel better.

"Ralof.", I called out as we approached him, "How's your sister?"

"She's faring well.", he replied.

"Good. Now, do you have any idea on what we should do to deal with telling people about these dragons?"

"No, I was going to head to Windhelm and see if Jarl Ulfric had any way to deal with them."

Hadvar spoke up, "We're not doing that."

"I didn't ask for your coward's input. Ulfric knows the old stories. He might know how to stop the dragon. Your precious Empire doesn't.", Ralof scorned.

"No, Hadvar's right.", I said, "The Stormcloaks lack the infrastructure to deal with the dragons, and the Empire lacks the knowledge. We need an organization better suited to deal with them."

"Fine, who do you suggest we go tell then?", Ralof asked.

"We don't know yet.", Hadvar interjected.

I glared at Hadvar, "No, we don't, but we don't need to yet. We need to warn Whiterun because they're the closest to Helgen and they can send guards to Riverwood for defense."

"So you want all three of us to head to Whiterun? An Imperial solider, a traitor, and an escaped prisoner to travel together?", Hadvar questioned.

"Yes."

"I'm okay if it means my sister gets protection from the dragons.", Ralof said

"She will.", I assured, "Now, let's try to make it to Whiterun before it gets dark."

That was when we started our mostly uneventful trek to the city of Whiterun to tell the Jarl of the dragon attack.

I miss how easy it was back then. Since that first trip to the Jarl, it has only gotten more difficult. A great showcase of that point is the fact that I'm lying face down in a puddle of my own blood while covered in snow with Thalmor looking for me (or my corpse).

The only good thing about this situation was that I keep slipping back into unconsciousness.


	7. The Wonderful Jarl Of Whiterun

"Halt! City's closed with the dragons about.", the gate keeper stated firmly.

The gatekeeper was a standard Whiterun Hold guard. He wore the traditional guard's uniform of brown pants, fur boots, leather bracers, chainmail cuirass, and a plan steel helmet. He also wore the sash across the chest in the yellowish-orange color of Whiterun.

"What do you mean 'city's closed with the dragons about'?", Ralof exclaimed.

"I mean you're not allowed in the city.", the guard affirmed, "No one is."

Ralof stepped closer to the guard, "We need to get into the city."

"You're not allowed entry.", The guard said.

"Open the gates! We need to get in!", Ralof shouted.

The guard placed his hand on his sword.

"Hey… My acquaintance here is a bit riled up.", I interrupted, "See, we have an urgent message to get to the Jarl. This message is for his ears only, and it contains vital information. You're blocking us, and both us and the Jarl would greatly appreciate if you'd let us tell him what we know about the dragons."

"And what would this urgent information be?", The guard asked.

Hadvar spoke up, "We know details of a recent dragon attack that the Jarl will want to know about."

"What kind of details?"

"The kind shared with the Jarl."

"Fine, we'll allow you three to enter the city, but we'll be keeping an eye on you.", the guard turned around to the gate and knocked.

He knocked in a pattern that I assumed to be a code. There was then a noise that sounded like a board sliding. The gates pulled apart slowly. This gave us our first look into the city, and I started trying to recall what I had read about Whiterun.

The city of Whiterun was split up into three sections called districts. They were seperated by their elevation.

The lowest district, the Plains District, was what the people saw once they entered the city through the gates. It was very rambunctious. This district held most of the vendors, craftsman, and the recreation areas, and it showed. The streets were filled with people going to and from places. People arguing over prices and quality. Drunkards spilled out of the town's main tavern.

This made it quite difficult to get to the stairs because of the crowds.

Once we got up the stairs, we were in the next district, the Wind District. This was the residential area of Whiterun. It was less hectic compared to the Plains District. There wasn't as many people walking around. The first sight one sees in the Winds District is usually the Gildergreen. The Gildergreen is a tree born from a sapling of the oldest tree in Skyrim. It is sacred to the Temple of Kynareth. To the right of the Gildergreen, a massive meadhall sits upon a hill. This is Jorrvaskr, home of the Companions.

Directly behind the Gildergreen is a winding set of stairs that lead to the final district, the Cloud District. The Cloud District housed our intended destination, Dragonsreach. Dragonsreach is the legendary home of the Jarl of Whiterun. It is a tall and formidable building to gaze upon.

As we made it through the tall, thick wooden doors, we were greeted by a final set of stairs. This led to a banquet room holding a large, welcoming fire with long tables on each side of it and the Jarl's throne at the end of the room.

We were also greeted by a dark elf in leather armour. Her sword was draw as she moved forward to us.

"What's the meaning of this interruption?", She asked bitterly, "Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving vistors."

Hadvar stepped forward, "We have news from Helgen."

"Well, that explains why the guards let you in.", The dark elf sheathed her sword, "Come on then, The Jarl will want to speak to you three personally then."

We started walking towards the throne that the Jarl sat on at the end of the banquet room. He was conversing with a man in blue dress clothes and a man in rugged armour made of fur and chainmail.

The Jarl himself wore highly detailed embroidery with a fur collar over a purple shirt. He had necklaces of gold upon his chest and rings covering his fingers.

The Jarl's conversation stopped when he saw us.

"Well. I trust you have something vitally important to tell me. Important enough to interrupt me in the middle of council?", he said in a booming voice.

I stepped forward, "We have news from Helgen. We're also worried Riverwood is in danger from the dragon and request men to be dispatched to its defense."

"Helgen?", The Jarl asked, "Are you sure this was a dragon attack? Not just some Stormcloack raid gone wrong?"

He glanced at Ralof after that last bit. I motioned to Ralof to not speak yet.

"It was a dragon. These two men can confirm this.", I responded

Hadvar and Ralof nodded in affirmation.

"By Ysmir, Irileth was right!", The Jarl exclaimed.

He turned to the man in blue dress clothes, "What do you say now, Proventus? Shall we continue to trust in the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?"

The dark elf walked to Jarl's side, "My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once. It's in the most immediate danger. If that dragon's lurking in the mountains…"

"The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation!", the man in dress clothes, Proventus, shouted "He'll assumed we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him."

"Enough!", The Jarl boomed.

He turned to the dark elf, "Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

"Yes, my Jarl.", the dark elf, Irileth went towards the doors of Dragonsreach.

"Maybe we should not…", Proventus suggested.

The Jarl interrupted, "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!"

"If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties."

"That would be best."

He turned to us, "Well done. You three have sought me out, on your own initiative. You've done Whiterun a service and I won't forget it. Here, take this as a small token of my esteem."

He handed me large money pouch.

Balgruuf continued, "There is another thing you three could do for me. Suitable of your particular talents, perhaps. Come, let's go see Farengar, my court wizard. He's been looking into a matter related to these dragons and… rumors of dragons."

This job, I came to discover, led to something higher just like the stairs of Whiterun. It was what led to me being discovered as the Dovakhiin, Dragonborn.


	8. The Plan

"What about Whiterun?", I asked.

Me, Hadvar, and Ralof went to Whiterun's smaller tavern, The Drunken Huntsman, after our meeting with the Jarl and Farengar. We sat at the table near by the central fireplace to eat our food.

"What about it?", Hadvar questioned.

"We need a way to deal with the dragons, right?", I answered while taking a bite of chicken leg.

"Right. But why do you suggest Whiterun?"

I continued, "Whiterun has resources. It's the trade center of Skyrim. It also has an actual lead on information pertaining to dragons. It's been less than a day, and they've already got possible info on them. That's impressive."

Ralof looked up from his food, "Ulfric could also have news about the dragons, however."

"Yeah, so could the Empire.", Hadvar suggested.

"Really? The Stormcloaks got ambushed by the Empire, and the Empire got ambushed by the dragon. You really want to go using the people who lost, on the same day, to fight more dragons?", I asked.

"No…", they both said.

"But…", Hadvar continued as Ralof went back to his food, "this lead might not work out. Farengar told us this 'Dragonstone' might not even be held in Bleak Falls Barrow. We don't even know what is supposed to be on this Dragonstone."

"True, but it's better than nothing."

"Whiterun could end up not being enough to deal with this. Is it worth the risk?"

"I want to say yes; however, we can't know for sure till we do it. Ralof, what do you think?"

Ralof finished chewing his food before answering, "Whiterun is traditionally neutral on the war. That could be useful for discussing with the damned Empire and Ulfric to combat the dragons, and Maximus isn't wrong about Whiterun's resources. Its economy is second only to Solitude, according to Ulfric."

"Are you agreeing with Maximus, Ralof?", Hadvar said after gulping drink from his mug.

"Yes."

I interrupted, "That leaves you, Hadvar. Are you willing to see if we can do something about the dragons?"

Hadvar considered this for a second, "Okay, we'll see If Whiterun is available to help deal with the dragons. If not, we go to the Empire for help."

"Done. Now, I'm thinking that we go looking people to aid us in Whiterun."

"Who would aid us with dragons?", Ralof asked as he finished his plate.

"Hmm.", I pondered, "The Companions might be useful. Honorable mercenaries with contracts all around Skyrim, and they have some of the best fighters. The Whiterun Guard could be good for dealing with Whiterun's problems with dragons. If there's anyone who functions independently, we could get them to operate with us."

"So we're building a small army then?", Ralof asked.

"Definitely. However, we need to deal with getting these people to trust us enough to be useful."

"How do we do that?", Hadvar wondered.

"We go join them.", I answered, "Hadvar, you need to get a position with the guards. Talk to Irileth about getting one that'll allow you more freedom to deal with the dragons."

"Okay, what about you and Ralof?"

"Ralof will go ask around town and see if anyone is willing to assist with hunting dragons, supplies, information, and funding. I will go see if I can join the Companions. We will meet back here in a week to discuss progress, and then we will start planning to go to Bleak Falls Barrow for the retrieval.", I took a bite of my bread.

Hadvar and I left the Drunken Huntsman after our discussion. Ralof stayed behind to hit on a dark elf woman eating at the corner table.

"You go to the Bannered Mare and rent a room to sleep.", I handed Hadvar some Septims, "I'm going to see if the Companions will let me in their little group."

Hadvar nodded and headed to the town's larger tavern. I went to the Cloud District of Whiterun and walked towards Jorrvaskr.

Jorrvaskr's shape was an unusual one. This was due to how it was built. The Atmorans, the men who came before Nords, built Jorrvaskr out of the boat (which was also named Jorrvaskr) that carried them to Skyrim from their home, Atmora. That fact was obvious if you looked at the roof. It was similar in shape to that of the underside of a massive longboat.

My entrance to Jorrvaskr went unnoticed by its inhabitants. This was due to everyone being crowded around a brawl or at least watching it. The brawlers were a dark elf with red hair and a Nord woman. They were grappling each when I came in. Each vying for control over the other.

I ignored this fight for the most part. Instead, I walked towards a red-headed woman wearing an outfit of large leather strips and iron pauldrons. It was hard to distinguish her facial features and expressions with the face paint covering it.

"Can I join the Companions?", I asked the red head.

She looked at me, "Not for me to say. You'll have to talk to Kodlak Whitemane in the living quarters."

She pointed to the far end of the room where stairs leading down were placed, "The old man's got a good sense for people. He can look in your eyes and tell your worth. If you go to him, good luck."

"Thanks, miss… What's your name?"

"Aela. Aela the Huntress.", she answered.

"Right. Thanks again, Aela."

I headed down the stairs to the living quarter doors. The living quarters' walls and ceiling were made of cobblestone with the occasional oak beam. The living quarters of Jorrvaskr has two sections: the members living area, which runs along the longest hallway, and the Circle's living area, which runs through a shorter hall going the opposite direction.

The Circle are the elite members of Companions. They live at the far end of the long hallway with their rooms running along the smaller one. The first room one sees of the Circle's living area is the Harbinger's room. This room's entrance is in front of the end of the large hall.

The Harbinger is the advisor of the Companions. They organize the Companions when needed and give advice, but they don't give orders. The Harbinger, Kodlak in this case, has historically decided who joined the Companions.

As I walked towards his room, I noticed Kodlak Whitemane lived up to his name. His hair was thick and full of white hair and it contained two braids in it. His beard was full and rugged. He had a tattoo on one side of his cheek. One the other side, scars appearing to be from an animal's claw were under his left eye.

He also wore, what I discovered to be, the armor most of the Circle wears. It was an armour made of thick black fur underneath heavy steel plate pieces. The armour's pieces were stylized with wolf symbols.

This armour was also worn by the man sitting next to Kodlak. He had dark brown hair of medium length and face paint around his eyes.

Kodlak and the man sat in chairs at the far end of Kodlak's room. I stood in the door way while waiting for their conversation to end. His room was covered with books shelves that were filled with books, display cases holding weapons and jewelry, and tables covered with open books and obscure objects. The floor had a luxurious red rug laying on its stone tiles.

I could overhear some of the men's conversation.

"But I still hear the call of the blood", the man said.

"We all do.", Kodlak reassured the man, "It is our burden to bear, but we can overcome."

The man nodded, "You have my brother and I, obviously, but I don't know if the rest will go along quite so easily."

"Leave that to me.", Kodlak saw me and motioned for me to step forward.

"What business do you have here?", he asked.

"I wish to join the Companions.", I proclaimed firmly.

"Would you now? Here, let me have a look at you.", Kodlak inspected me thoughtfully, "Hmm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit."

"Master, you're not truly considering accepting him?", the man interjected.

"I'm nobody's master, Vilkas.", Kodlak snapped, "And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

The man, Vilkas looked down in embarrassment, "Apologizes, but perhaps this isn't the best time. I've never even heard of this outsider."

"Sometimes the famous come to us.", Kodlak said, "Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their heart."

"And their arm.", Vilkas suggested.

"Of course.", Kodlak turned to face me, "How are you in battle, boy?"

"That's kinda why I wanted to join.", I said, "I have much to learn."

"That's the spirit.", Kodlak boomed, "Vilkas here will get started on that. Vilkas, take him out to the yard and see what he can do."

Vilkas stood up and left through the living quarters. I followed. We exited through the back doors of Jorrvaskr into the training yard.

This was the start of my training to fighting. It was also the start of my path of gaining the Companions' trust and respect for the purpose of dealing with dragons.


	9. The Companions

It was almost dusk as we exited Jorrvaskr's backdoors.

Jorrvaskr's training yard contained two parts: the resting/equipment section, which laid directly in front of Jorrvaskr's back doors, and the training field, which contained dummies, targets, and an open area to spar in.

The resting and equipment section had tables, chairs, and weapon racks filed with practice gear.

Vilkas grabbed a large practice sword and headed for the open area.

"The old man said to have a look at you, so let's do this", Vilkas said, "Grab a weapon and just have a few swings at me so I can see your form. Don't worry, I can take it."

I opted for the practice dagger and light sword. I followed Vilkas and raised my weapons.

I struck with my sword, but Vilkas' sword moved surprisingly fast for it's size.

He parried my strike and moved behind me. I turned around, hoping to hit him with my dagger.

He parried again.

 _THWACK!_

I had a ringing in my ears. Vilkas had hit my head with the flat of his sword.

 _THWACK!_

He hit my right shin.

 _THWACK!_

He spun around me and hit my head again.

 _THUMP!_

He knocked me down with the hilt of his sword. I fell towards the edge of the resting area.

This beat down was when I learned two things.

First, Vilkas wasn't a berserker or a tank. He fought in heavy armour and swung a heavy sword in a similar way to a hammer, but he didn't rely on brute strength. Vilkas was precise and careful with his strikes. This made him a very dangerous opponent.

Secondly, if you're losing, fight unfairly. If you're cornered, become the wild card.

For example, if you're knocked down and your weapons aren't fast enough to get past one's guard, get a weapon that makes guard no longer matter.

Chairs are one such example of this. I jumped up and threw my sword at Vilkas. It didn't do much because he blocked it away from him, but he was unfocused on me for one second.

I grabbed a chair.

 _THUNK!_

I swung at him with the chair, but he hit it with his sword However, his sword was also stuck in the chair's legs.

I charged forward with the chair. I slammed him against the far wall of the training yard with his sword and chair press against him.

"Do I win?", I smirked.

He pushed the chair to the side and knocked me down, "Not bad. You might just make it. But for now, you're still a whelp to us, new blood, so you do what we tell you. Here's my sword"

He drawed his actual sword from the sheathe on his back and handed it to me.

"Go take it to Eorlund to have it sharpened.", he pointed toward the elevated rock formation next to the training yard, "And be careful, it's probably worth more than you are."

He headed back inside Jorrvaskr as I went around the rock formation to find the stairs.

This rock formation had a statue of a falcon etched from the rock above it. As I climbed the stairs, I also noticed a light.

This was apparently light from a forge. To be exact, it was _the_ forge, Skyforge.

Skyforge is renowned across Tamriel for it's properties in being able to forge basically anything, if you know how to smith and have the proper materials.

There was a man working the Skyforge. He looked around his fifties with long grey hair. He wore light clothes to keep cool near the forge.

"What brings you up here?", the man asked.

"I got this for you", I handed the large sword to him.

He chuckled, "I'm guessing you're the newcomer then?"

"How'd you know? Do they always send newcomers to do their errands?"

"Oh, don't worry too much about it.", he assured me, "They were all whelps once. They just might not like to talk about it. And don't always just do what you're told. Nobody rules anybody in the Companions"

"So there's no leaders? Are you certain?"

"Well, I'm not sure how they've managed it, but they have.", he retrieved a hot iron from the table with tongs, "No leaders since Ysgramor. Kodlak is the Harbinger, and he's a sort of advisor for the whole group, but every man is his own. Every woman, her own."

"Are you a Companion then?"

He placed the iron in the water trough, "Not actually a Companion myself, but none of them know how to work a forge properly, and I'm honored to serve them. My name is Eorlund Gray-Mane. I work the Skyforge. Best steel in all of Skyrim. All of Tamriel."

"Interesting. Well, I should be off as it's getting late."

"Wait.", he pleaded, "I have a favor to ask. I've been working on a shield for Aela. My wife is in mourning and I need to get back to her soon. I'd be much obliged if you could take this to Aela for me."

"Okay, give me the shield then."

He grabbed the metal shield off the table and handed it to me, "That's a good man. Now, I got to finish this work then I can head to my wife."

I left Eorlund to his smithing as I walked down the stairs. I went back to Jorrvaskr and searched the Circle's living area for Aela's room.

I found the room Aela was in. It was a simply furnished room containing a bed, a bookcase, a table, and a chair, but it's walls were covered with various pelts of animals. She was talking with a man wearing the same wolf armour that Kodlak and Vilkas wore. He was bald, and he had a hardy and rough appearance. His left eye was glazed over with white. This looked to be from an attack that left the scar over his eye and cheek.

Aela looked to me as I entered her room, "Ah, good. I've been waiting for this. Wait... I remember you, so the old man thinks you've got some heart, I guess."

"You know this one?", the man asked, "I saw him training in the yard with Vilkas."

"Ah, yes. I heard you gave him quite a thrashing.", she remarked.

The man advised, "Don't let Vilkas catch you saying that."

Aela turned to me, "Do you think you could handle Vilkas in a real fight?"

"I, uh, don't really care for boasting.", I said awkwardly.

"Ah, a man of action.", she commented, "Here, let's have Farkas show you where you'll be resting your head."

"Farkas!", the man shouted.

After a few seconds, a man jogged to the door. He looked similar to Vilkas; however, his hair was longer and less maintained. His face was less clean shaven than Farkas' as well. He wore plain steel armour, as opposed to the wolf armour of other members of the Circle.

"Did you call?", he asked.

"Of course we did, icebrain.", Aela answered.

The bald man, who I later learned to be Skjor, ordered, "Show this new blood where the rest of the whelps sleep."

"New blood?", Farkas mused, "Oh, hello. I'm Farkas. Come on, follow me."

Farkas walked me out of the Circle's hall and down the member's hall while speaking to me, "Skjor and Aela like to tease me, but they're good people. They challenge us to be our best. It's nice to have a new face around. It gets boring here sometimes. I hope we keep you. This can be a rough life."

We almost reached the door to the living quarters.

"The quarters are up here. Just pick a bed and fall in it when you're tired. Tilma will keep the place clean. She always has."

He stopped me at the door.

"Alright, so here you are. Looks like the others are eager to meet you. Come to me or Aela if you're looking for work. Once you've made a bit of a name for yourself, Skjor and Vilkas might have things for you to do. Good luck. Welcome to the Companions. By the way, if you're looking for something to do..."

This was the start of my week filled with doing odd jobs around Whiterun. I dealt with skeevers, among other pests. I intimidated people to stop bothering others or to pay their debts. I even roughed up a defenseless woman (not my proudest moment. In my defense, she bit me first).

I also spent time training with other members in combat or hunting. Eorlund even offered to show me smithing when he had the time. It was surprisingly fun dealing with the Companions. In my free time, I talked to Hadvar and Ralof when they were off.

Things were so simple back then.


	10. To Dustman's Cairn

Hadvar, Ralof, and I met back at the Drunken Huntsman at the end of the week.

"How's your joining of the Companions going anyways?", Ralof asked as he was sitting down.

"I'm not a full member yet, but It's going well.", I answered from my seat, "I hit someone with a chair."

"That's going well? 'I hit someone with a chair', how is that well?"

"Well, it was the entrance exam into the Companions. I was losing the sparring fight, so I threw my sword and swung it at my opponent."

"And they let you join still?", Hadvar mocked.

"Yeah, I got my own bed and everything."

"Wow.", Hadvar exclaimed.

"Sorry, it must be going so well for you then, Hadvar.", I responded bitterly.

"I know you're being sarcastic, but it is going pretty well for me. Irileth, the Captain of the Guard, and I are setting up a special threats unit of the Guard. They've even got me fitted for new gear that they're making for me and the unit. We haven't made an official name, nor have we decided on the recruits yet though."

"What's your role in the unit?", Ralof jested, "Drinking their milk so it doesn't go to waste?"

Hadvar appeared unamused, "No, I'm to be the captain of the unit because of my experience in Helgen and in the Legion."

"Nice.", I congratulated, "Although, you should think of a name for it. Something like Dragonguard, that would be fitting."

Hadvar pondered, "Maybe, I'll run that suggestion to Irileth. Now, what has Ralof been up to besides getting that dark elf's pants over there."

He pointed to the corner table. There was the women Ralof was trying to pick up last time we were here sitting at it.

"I didn't just try.", Ralof smirked, "But I also recruited her. She's a mercenary for hire, so I used some of the funds the Jarl gifted us to buy her services."

"You brought one person on for our goal?", Hadvar pressed.

"No. There was also this strong Nord woman in the Bannered Mare. We got into a brawl, and she thought she'd win. I, however, beat her and she agreed to travel along with me if I was that capable… if you get what I mean."

I facepalmed, "We get what you mean, Ralof. Is there anyone you got to assist us that you _didn't_ sleep with?"

"Well, there was also this other mercenary I hired from the Bannered Mare.", he explained, "He's a large man, Nord like me too, walks around in heavy iron armour and carries a heavy battleaxe. I also recruited this other man. He retired from the Stormcloaks to be with his family, but they passed away. He wanted to fight again but didn't know if he should rejoin the Stormcloaks or not. I offered him to help us fight the dragons instead."

"Hmm, it seems you actually did do something.", Hadvar admitted.

"Good work, Ralof.", I interjected, "But we need to coordinate these groups. Hadvar, ask Irileth if she could intergrate Ralof's team as an auxillary unit. We're going to spend three weeks setting that up. Afterwards, we're gathering required equipment in one week for our Bleak Falls Barrow retrieval."

"Are we heading out after that?", Hadvar asked.

I responded, "We are. Our priority is seeing if this Dragonstone exists and if it is useful. I just want to ensure that we don't place everything on that. I want to set everything up so Whiterun isn't defenseless if the Dragonstone is a bust."

"Alright.", Hadvar said.

We left the Drunken Huntsman and went our separate ways after that.

I continued doing odd jobs around Whiterun for the Companions and other people for a couple of weeks till Skjor intercepted me in the feast hall.

"Your time, it seems, has come.", he said ominously, "We have something special for you this time."

"Uhh…", I stammered, "What does that mean exactly?"

"Last week a scholar came to us.", Skjor explained, "He said he knew where we could find another fragment of Wuuthrad. He seemed a fool to me, but if he's right, the honor of the Companions demands that we seek it out."

"What does this have to do with me? What's this supposed to be?"

"This is a simple errand, but the time is right for it to be your Trial.", he answered, "Carry yourself with honor, and you'll become a true Companion. Now, Farkas will be your Shield-Sibling on this venture, whelp. He'll answer any questions you have. Try not to disappoint or get him killed."

Skjor handed me an envelope and walked away. After that, I searched the yard for Farkas.

I found him swinging at the practice dummy with his sword.

"Farkas!", I called out.

He stopped his swinging and turned.

"New blood, I hope you've readied yourself.", he called back.

I walked to him as he sheathed his sword, "You're supposed to be my 'Shield-Brother' apparently."

"So I'm told.", he commented, "Let's see if you impress, meet me at Dustman's Cairn."

"Dustman's Cairn? Where's that?"

"Open the envelope Skjor gave you before asking stupid question.", he remarked dryly.

Farkas left the training yard and headed to our intended destination.

I opened the envelope Skjor previously handed me. It contained a small map indicating its location in relation to Whiterun and other landmarks. It also had a blueprint of the crypt's layout.

I put on my simple leather cuirass, bracers, and boots before leaving Jorrvaskr. I then set out to Dustman's Cairn.

My trip to Dustman's Cairn was the first time I fought. Sure, I sparred, but I was never in serious danger during that. This trip to prove my honor had real danger. It had Draugr, the undead guardians of Nordic crypts. They never took kindly to trespassers, and they tried to kill all they found. It was the first time I saw them in person. It was also the first time I went on a trip to retrieve an artifact.

At least in that trip, I didn't end up bleeding out in the snow, as opposed to now.


	11. It's Official, I Fought Alongside A Wolf

Ironically, the first few draugr weren't the main threat in Dustman's Cairn. Farkas drove through most of them with his large sword, and I picked off any stragglers by hitting them with my shield until they were disoriented enough for me to shove my blade through them.

We made it through the first tombs of Dustman's Cairn mostly unharmed. It only got complicated once we reached the antechamber. It was a massive, open room. There were thrones, tables, and bookshelves lined along the walls. One of the tables even had an arcane enchanter placed on it.

The most interesting part of this room, however, was the two gates, one open and one closed. There appeared to have been a third at one point, but the central one's ceiling collapsed in due to age. There was a lever at the back end of the open gate's room. Farkas went scouting the chamber for draugr. I walked to the lever and pulled it.

 _SCHLIK!_

The gate dropped down behind me, trapping me in the room. The other gate on the right opened because of that.

Farkas rushed over to my trapped position.

"Now look what you've gotten yourself into. No worries, just sit tight.", he reassured me, "I'll find a release."

He started searching the room until he heard a noise that I couldn't perceive.

"What was that?", he exclaimed as he was drawing his sword.

A bunch of men moved towards Farkas. There appeared to be five of them surrounding Farkas. Their weapons were drawn. The weapons appeared to be glinting more than usual, like silver.

The ambushers stepped closer to Farkas.

"Killing you will make for an excellent story.", one of the ambushers taunted.

Farkas rebutted coldly, "None of you will be alive to tell it."

Farkas dropped his sword after that and started clenching in pain. He grew larger, taller, more muscular and his stature more broad and elongated. His steel armour started straining and breaking apart from his transformation. Its shattered pieces fell from his changing body. Hair began rapidly growing, covering his entire body.

One of the ambushers worked up the courage to swing their axe at the werewolf taking the place of Farkas. Farkas didn't take that attempted attack well.

Farkas had grabbed the attacker's warhammer in his hand (well, paw).

 _THUD!_

He reached out with his other arm and flung the attacker into the wall. Farkas swung around and sliced another ambusher with his paw's sharp nails. Deep gashes appeared on the victim even though he wore thick steel armour.

Two of the ambushers tried to attack Farkas at once. One charged a spear towards Farkas' torso. The other shot arrows from her bow at him. Farkas grabbed the charger in one arm and used him as a human shield against the arrows.

After the second shot, Farkas was upon her. Farkas dropped his fleshy shield and grabbed the shooter with one paw on of her each arms.

He started pulling. The archer screamed until Farkas finished tearing her in half. He quickly dropped her mangled remains after that.

Farkas turned to face the last one. The final ambusher started wavering. He dropped his weapon and tried to run, but Farkas got in a crouching position and pounced. Farkas land on the running man with the full weight of his body. Farkas clamped his maw on the attacker's throat and feasted before barreling off down the open gateway.

I stood there for a few moments in shock, shield at the ready in case werewolf Farkas wasn't as friendly as human one.

The gate opened up.

Farkas came back from gateway after a minute. He was naked but in human form, at least. He walked over to the least disfigured victim and started changing into their armour.

"This doesn't fit as well.", he muttered to himself.

Then he headed over to me, "I hope I didn't scare you"

"WHAT THE FLIPPITY FREAKING FUCK WAS THAT!", I shouted in panic.

"It's a blessing given to some of us.", he said stoically, "We can be like wild beasts. Fearsome."

"Okay…", I breathed, "Now, who just attacked us then?"

"The Silver Hand.", Farkas answered, "Bad people who don't like werewolves, so they don't like us either."

I pressed, "Us? Do you mean the Companions? Are you saying all the Companions are werewolves?"

"Not everyone.", he assured me, "But all the Circle are. It's a secret to everybody."

"Lovely.", I muttered under my breath.

He must have heard my comment as he responded, "It is. Now, prove your honor to be a Companion. 'Eyes on the prey, not the horizon.' We should keep moving, still the draugr to worry about."

Farkas and I continued (albeit I did so more uneasily knowing my companion was vicious murder doggy) into the crypt. We let the draugr and the Silver Hand members fight each other for the most part, and we killed any survivors (by 'we' I mean mostly Farkas).

We then reached an iron door with traditional Nordic crypt markings.

We reached the main tomb.

It had a short, wide corridor with 6 metal sarcophagi lining the walls, 3 on each side, just past the door. The main chamber had an open space with ascending stairs leading to an oddly marked and curved wall with a table in directly in front of it. The right side of the chamber was lined with a number of sarcophagi. The left side had wooden stairs and platform leading to an edge with a few more sarcophagi scattered around it.

The total number of sarcophagi: 22

I walked to up the stairs. I first saw oddly marked and curved wall.

I realized the markings were words. They were words in another language, but they were words. I felt I could understand the words, but also that I couldn't.

 _QETHSEGOL VahRUKIV KiiR JUN JAFNHAR WO LOS AG NahLaaS NaaL_ _ **YOL**_ _DO LOT DOVah LODUNOST_

(This stone commemorates the child king, Jafnhar, who was burned alive by the **fire** of the great dragon, Lodunos.)

The words didn't make sense, yet they did.

I didn't dwell upon it; however, I turned to the table. The fragment of Wuuthrad rested upon the pedestal on the table. I grabbed it and placed it into my belt pouch.

That was one of the bigger mistakes in my increasingly shortening life.

 _THUD!_

The sarcophagi doors fell off one by one. Draugr started shambling out of their resting places, raising their weapons and summoning magics.

As soon as the draugr started towards us, Farkas was already charging down the corridor.

Farkas is a whirlwind when fighting. He has a penchant for slicing opponents in half with his sword. The draugr in the corridor learnt this the hard way, obviously. Within seconds, he had cut all six of the draugr from the corridor in half, at varying different angles of cuts.

However, this left 16 draugr in the main chamber. The three closest to me circled around me.

Three-on-one is never good odds when in a fight. Three-on-one is even worse when the three are undead ancient warriors and the one is you, an amateur combatant who was just learning how to fight properly.

I held my shield up just as on of them swung at me. I pushed the shield against the attacking draugr in an attempt to make distance.

"ACK!", I screamed.

The draugr behind me was blasting a frost spell at my back causing a stinging pain. I turned and smacked the casting hand away from my direction with my shield. I used my other arm to shove my sword through the draugr's skull.

I retracted my blade from the now fully dead draugr; however, another draugr swung its axe into my left shoulder blade as I did this.

I fell to the ground after that. I turned and raised my shield over my body to defend against the two surviving draugrs attacks, but my injury made it difficult. The more remaining draugr started surrounding me.

They were barraging me with attacks. My shield was actually shattering from the repetitive impacts.

Luckily for me, Farkas was faring a lot better.

He came back from the corridor. He swung around the room so rapidly that he became a whirlwind of death. The draugrs separated limbs, heads, and bodies hadn't even hit the ground before he was slicing the next one apart.

The draugrs' numbers dropped each second.

16.

11.

6.

Farkas finally made it to my location as I was cowering under my breaking shield. The wood of it was splitering, and the metal frame was bending.

However, Farkas was tearing through the 6 draugrs now around me. He gotten two of them until one of them, the draugr wearing a large horned helmet, shouted.

 _FUS… RO DAH!_

It sounded similar to what the dragon had shouted in Helgen. The shouted projected a force that knocked Farkas to the ground.

That was not good news. Once you get Farkas going, he's a force to be reckoned with. If you can knock Farkas down, however, then he's a lot easier to take down.

With Farkas on the ground, the draugr were able to take advantage of this.

He tried parrying what attacks he could with his sword, but it wasn't much. Swinging a sword while knocked down on the floor isn't very effective. He wasn't going to be able to withstand their barrage forever. I wasn't faring so well when I was pinned under them, and I had a shield at the time. Farkas didn't have a shield.

I rose, albeit slowly, and I dropped my basically useless shield. I had one trick up my sleeve. The reason I never used it was because the Companions discourage magic usage. (I was also never much good at magic anyways as I lacked practice up to that point.)

After Farengar's description of the job he requested from us, I bought a spell tome from him. I did so because I thought it'd be useful for camping, lighting, or cooking. I didn't intend for combat usage; however, the undead have, among others, a weakness for a specific element.

Fire.

I willed the element into my left hand, and it started warming. Intense heat was radiating from my hand hand. Flames spouted from my palm and began enveloping my hand. I projected it towards the draugr in a fiery stream.

The draugr turned from Farkas to face me after being blasted with flames. I keep blasting the fire towards them until my focus began to fade. That's a problem with magic, it consumes your focus. If you cast continuous spells for too long, you'll become mentally drained until you can't focus on the room you're in, which is really bad for fighting.

I then slashed my sword at one of the draugrs' neck. It almost fully detached from its body.

The draugr with the large horns rushed directly in front of me and inhaled a deep breath. It was preparing to shout those damned magical words again.

In an attempt to stop this, I raised my left arm (which, I might add, was quite painful) and projected flames into its mouth.

This caused the large horned draugr to stagger backwards towards a waiting Farkas.

Farkas had risen and thrusted his sword through the torso of the draugr.

I turned around to cut another draugr diagonally across the chest. I sliced again, this time in the opposite direction. My final slash was towards the legs of the draugr. It began falling.

I stabbed it through the back once it hit the ground.

Farkas had dealt with the remaining draugr in his usual rapid manner.

"Farkas!", I called as I sat down on the floor, "You should take this."

"Take what?"

"The fragment of Wuuthrad.", I grabbed it from my pouch.

He started towards me, "You'll be fine. Stand up, new blood."

"I know, I know. I'm just a bit tired, and I need to rest a bit. You should get this to Jorrvaskr as soon as possible, so we don't risk it getting lost again.", I placed it in his hand.

"Are you sure?", he questioned.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. You just go ahead of me because I'll be taking a few hours."

"Alright.", he relented, "See you at Jorrvaskr."

He took his leave of the crypt.

I grabbed a medium sized health potion from my belt and drank it. After that, I passed out on the crypt floor for a couple of hours.

When I awoke, my stinging back and shoulder cut seemed mostly healed. I started grabbing anything of value or interest (including the silver equipment of the Silver Hand) and shoved it into my belt pouch on my way out of Dustman's Cairn. I arrived back at Whiterun just before dusk.

As I made my way up the steps to Jorrvaskr, Vilkas caught me.

"The Circle's waiting for you out back.", he said.

"What?", I said, puzzled.

"Just follow me.", he ordered.

Vilkas and I walked around Jorrvaskr to the training yard.

The members of the Companions were sitting in the resting/equiptment area of the yard. The Circle, however, was standing in the open area. They were in order from right to left: Aela, Skjor, Kodlak, and Farkas.

All but Aela was wearing the wolf armour now, including Farkas now that his steel armour got destroyed.

"Stand before the Circle.", Vilkas told me.

He then went to stand next to Farkas.

Kodlak spoke from the center of the semi-cirle, "Brothers and Sisters of the Circle, today we welcome a new soul into our mortal fold. This man has endured, has challenged and has showed his/her valor. Who will speak for him?"

Farkas stepped forward, "I stand witness for the courage of the soul before us."

"Would you raise your shield in his/her defense?", Kodlak asked.

"I would stand at his/her back, that the world might never overtake us.", Farkas answered.

Kodlak continued, "And would you raise your sword in his/her honor?"

"It stands ready to meet the blood of his foes."

"And would you raise a mug in his name?"

"I would lead the song in triumph as our mead hall reveled in his stories.", Farkas proclaimed rather dramatically.

"Then this judgment of this Circle is complete.", Kodlak declared, "His heart beats with the fury and courage that have united the Companions since the days of the distant green summers. Let it beat with ours, so the mountains may echo and our enemies may tremble at the call."

The Circle spoke in unison, "It shall be so!"

Most of the Companions left rather unceremoniously after that.

Kodlak, however, stayed behind.

"Well, boy, you're one of us now.", he congratulated, "I trust you won't disappoint."

"Thanks.", I said, "It means a lot, Kodlak, but I have a question."

"Ask away, boy."

"So… are the the Companions werewolves?"

"I see you've been allowed to know some secrets before your appointed time.", he said regretfully, "Yes, it's true, but not every Companion is. No, only members of the Circle share the blood of the beast. Some take to it more than others."

"What's your thoughts on this?", I pressed.

"Well, I grow old.", Kodlak responded, "My mind turns towards the horizon, to Sovngarde. I worry that Shor won't call an animal warrior as he would a true Nord warrior. Living as beasts draws our souls closer to the Daedric lord, Hircine. Some may prefer eternity in his hunting grounds, but I crave the fellowship of Sovngarde."

He looked rather sorrowful at that thought.

"Do you seek to cure yourself, Kodlak?"

"Yes, but it's no easy matter. But you don't need to share the worries of an old warrior.", he changed subjects rather abruptly, "This day is to rejoice in your bravery!"

Kodlak started walking back into Jorrvaskr, but he turned back behind him, "And speak to Eorlund for a better gear than...", he glanced at me, "whatever that is."

The door to Jorrvaskr closed behind him.

I opted to order a black dyed leather cuirass, boots, bracers, and pauldrons braced with steel studs, thick leather pants, jerkin with a hood (also dyed for low light situations), a long bow and a short bow, one broadsword, one longsword, two daggers, a glaive, and a steel shield.

I know. I went a little overboard on Kodlak's offer of free gear, but I payed Eorlund anyways for the effort he went to in crafting. (I payed some of it in silver weapons, but I still payed). I had to wait till the week before my trip to Bleak Falls Barrow for it to be done, however.


	12. Bleak Falls Barrow

Ralof went ahead to Riverwood while Hadvar and I picked up the final supplies with the last of our remaining funds.

I went to Warmaiden's, the main blacksmith in Whiterun (besides Eorlund), and bought numerous steel arrows for us. I also picked up food from some vendors in the market center.

Hadvar had exited from Arcadia's Cauldron, the potions and ingredients shop, with a bunch of potions. He had bought a few potions that resisted the elements, a strength potion, and regenerative potions. We agreed to store these in my belt pouch.

Hadvar was also wearing his new Dragonguard gear. The Jarl special ordered it from Eorlund and had it enchanted by Farengar. It was a light steel plate armour. The armour lacked any ornate designs, but it had Whiterun's symbol, A horse's head, stitched onto the cloth that covered the chest piece. The cloth was in Whiterun's colors, yellow-orange. The armour was enchanted with protection against flames and frost, to deal with dragon threats. He also had a new longsword sheathed at his back along with his old Imperial gladius at his waist.

"I have to be honest.", I commented as we walked along the path towards Riverwood, "It's strange seeing you out of the Imperial gear."

"It didn't make sense for an Imperial solider to be a part of the Whiterun guard.", he explained, "The Jarl has refused Imperial garrison, so me being there in uniform wouldn't look good. There's also the issue of me possibly being considered a deserter. My uniform would've drawn too much attention to us."

"What? Why would you be a deserter for dealing with the dragons.", I questioned as we walked across the bridge into Riverwood.

He answered, "Imperial units dislike soldiers doing anything outside orders. Since I'm operating outside of orders, they might think I'm refusing to continue my oath to the Legion."

"Is there any way to avoid this?", I wondered.

"I don't know.", Hadvar said, solemmly, "That doesn't matter though. The reason I joined the Legion was to help bring my country together and help people. I don't want this war to continue on and hurt more than it already has. The dragons, however, are a worse threat than any war. That's why I'm working with that traitor Ralof, and it's why I'm willing to be considered a deserter. The dragons need to be stopped before anyone can be safe."

We headed into the tavern, the Sleeping Giant Inn, and found a table by the door to wait for Ralof to meet us here.

"Why did you do this?", Hadvar asked.

I questioned, "Do what?"

"This. You brought me and Ralof to fight the dragons. You even joined the Companions, but you didn't explain why. Most people would run from the country after surviving a dragon attack, not go looking to fight more."

"You didn't leave though, nor did Ralof"

"Ralof lives for the legend. He wants to be like his idols. The ancient heroes are his inspiration, and he views stopping the dragons as the way to do it. I want to keep people safe. You, however, have no reason to do this, so why do you want to?"

I pondered this for a second. I had never actually thought about why I wanted to deal with the dragons till now.

The dragon in Helgen made me realize something. I felt drawn to it. I was terrified that day, but I also felt clearer than I had ever been. I had this urge to destroy any dragon I could get my blade on, and I wanted to get my blade on all of them. I never wanted to be weak compared to them. I wanted to be more powerful than any of them could ever be, and the way I figured to do that was to eradicate them.

"Well…", I answered, "You remember how chaotic it was in Helgen, right?"

"Aye."

"No one was able to do anything that day. Tulius fled. The Thalmor ran away. Ulfric even escaped during the destruction instead of fighting-"

"I said I remember Helgen.", Hadvar interrupted, "I'm asking what does this have to do with you wanting to fight dragons."

"I'm saying that I don't want to be that helpless again. I'm going to ensure of it by making the dragons no longer be a threat."

"Hmm, I suppose that is a reason.", Hadvar said monotonally.

Ralof had entered the inn after Hadvar's vague comment.

He wasn't wearing his usual shoddy, handmade armour he wore for the Stormcloaks. He was, instead, wearing a chainmail shirt, steel pauldrons, plates in between the elbow and shoulder (rerebrace), and gauntlets. However, he wore his blue sash still. He had it draped across his newer armour. He also wore brown pants with steel boots, kneeguards, and cuisses (armour plating along the outside of the thigh).

"Guess what coincidental thing just happened to me.", Ralof said as his sat down with us.

"What, Ralof?", Hadvar asked.

"So you know how I had a thing for the Riverwood Trader's sister, right?"

Hadvar stated. "I remember. What about it?"

Ralof continued, "I went to the Riverwood Trader and tried to hit on her, but I apparently came there at a bad time. They were arguing about this strange golden claw that was stolen."

"How is this coincidental?", I wondered.

"So the shopkeeper, Lucan Valerius, was telling his sister, Camilla, off for trying to go after the thieves.", Ralof explained, "I then interrupted their exchanged and asked if they knew where the thieves went. Do you guys want to guess where?"

"The Queen's bedchambers.", Hadvar replied sarcastically.

"No, Hadvar. The thieves went to this ancient crypt up on the mountain overlooking Riverwood. Care to figure out which one?"

"Wait, you're telling me you want to retrieve their golden claw as well as the Dragonstone?", I questioned.

"Yes.", Ralof answered, "We're heading their anyways. The Dragonstone might not be there. If we get the claw, we're guaranteed coin, and Camilla might just 'repay' me for my bravery."

Hadvar placed his palm on his head, "Do you see how infuriating it was growing up with this man, Maximus?"

"Ha.", I chuckled, "I keep forgetting you two lived in this town together, the way you too barage each other insults."

It silent after that. I must have hit a nerve.

After a few minutes of awkward quiet, I stood up, "We should head out."

Hadvar agreed, "Yes, we should."

We left our table and the inn.

After leaving Riverwood, we walked along the path that led to Bleak Falls Barrow. It started getting colder as we rose in elevation. The ground now had snow covering it. This is because Bleak Falls Barrow rests upon a mountain.

We continued up the mountain till we found a building.

It was a single watch tower that rested on the path to the barrow. It overlooked Riverwood from the mountain. The cobblestone bricks were weathered, and the tower lacked a proper roof due to the elements and age. It had three stories, however. The floors from the higher levels kept some of the heat in.

This made it a promising refuge for three of the bandits guarding the path to the barrow. They were doing a terrible job of guarding the path, but we wandered into them anyways.

The three bandits, an Orc, a Nord, and a Breton (a race indistinguishable from Imperials or Nords unless you closely inspect them for hints of elven features), sat at a table on the second floor of the tower.

Once they heard us walking up the platform to the second floor, the Orc rose from the table and drew his warhammer.

Ralof was the first to enter the room. We weren't expecting inhabitants in the tower, so his sword wasn't drawn. Upon noticing there were inhabitants, Ralof charged the Orc, slamming him against the table before he could swing the hammer.

The Nord at the table stood up and brought up his small axe. He swung it Hadvar as he entered the room.

Hadvar, however, was faster. He grabbed the Nord's forearm in his left hand, put his right hand against the neck of the Nord, and slammed him into the doorframe.

The Breton was the last to notice what was going on. He got up and grabbed his dagger from the table while conjuring flames from his hand.

I came into the room behind Hadvar as he was drawing his gladius.

Ralof was still struggling with the Orc.

The Breton was aiming for Ralof with his fire. This meant I didn't have time to draw a weapon, so I followed the Breton's lead instead. I summoned the same spell and blasted fire from my hand to intercept the Breton's flames.

The Breton realized I was the one stopping his fire from hitting the intended target. His solution was to overpower my magic by focusing more intensity on his spell.

It was working too. I didn't have training in magic, so my spells weren't the most powerful. My focus was getting weak trying to keep up with the Breton.

Luckily, Hadvar came to my rescue quickly after dealing with the other bandits . He had thrust his sword into the Nord he slammed into the doorframe first. Then, he also stabbed the Orc Ralof was struggling in the stomach. Finally, he ran past me and shoved his gladius into the Breton during our magical duel.

"That didn't go as expected.", Ralof exclaimed, composing himself after the fight.

Hadvar nodded in agreement, "It didn't. We should be more vigilant. Those bandits caught us off guard."

"Are you suggesting we keep our weapons drawn during the rest of our trek to the barrow?", I asked.

"Aye.", Hadvar clarified, "We wouldn't want to be caught without a blade out again."

"Okay, but first, we should set up a fire and eat before getting there. We won't be able to rest once we get there cause of the draugr and any remaining bandits.", Ralof stated.

"I'll make the fire.", I said, "You two prep the food."

I started handing them bread, meats, cheese, and lettuce from my pouch.

Since I had the enchanted belt, I had become the official storage system for our little group. I took some firewood we had bought from my pouch and carried it to the lower floor. It was made of stone (as opposed to wood), so there was no risk of it catching fire. I stacked them upon each other and casted fire at them.

I sat on the floor, warming mysekf by the fire, while waiting for Hadvar and Ralof to finish preparing our sandwiches. After a few minutes, they came down to the fire, and we ate.

I finished my meal first which allowed me to scour the tower. Among the useless clutter, I found books, coins, and potions. I also grabbed the warhammer from the Orc.

The reason I did this was because it wasn't a simple steel or iron hammer. It was made in the style of traditional orcish equipment. Orcs make their weapon and armour in a very distinct manner. They utilize the metal orichalcum (or orichalc) to create an alloy with iron ore (sometimes skilled smiths even alloy it with steel, which itself is already an alloy of iron). This makes the metal produced tougher than traditional iron/steel gear.

They also shape the piece in a violent, anguished manner. The metal striking process is a very emotional process for an orc smith. This causes orcish weapons or armour to appear primitive in nature. Every piece is to be different due to the emotions of the forger. They are also quite valuable because of their duality of practicality and artistic in orcish culture.

I lowered the warhammer into my belt pouch's. As I came back door to the first floor, Ralof was putting out the fire, and Hadvar was waiting at the door.

We headed along our path, with our weapons drawn until we reached the stairs to the barrow.

As we rose up the stairs, we heard bandits discussing the cold.

"It's colder than a frost troll's tit out here.", one of them complained.

"I know.", a woman agreed, "I don't get we got stuck in the cold when they get to sit by a fire."

A posh elven voice berated, "You heard Arvel. That store owner saw us. He might send some fools up here to retrieve the claw which is bad news for us."

Ralof ran up the stairs during their conversation. With a steel axe in hand, Ralof rushed the bandits.

They didn't even have time to react before Ralof's axe was buried in the High Elf's skull.

Hadvar closely followed behind Ralof. He held his longsword in both his hands as he walked towards the woman.

She picked up the spear next to her. She thrusted it at Hadvar, but his Imperial training made him fast enough to react.

He quickly moved his sword directly behind the spearhead and pulled it upwards, moving the direction of the spear away from him. This allowed him to move in closer to the woman. He used this closeness to disrupt her balance with a "push kick", as they call it in the Legion.

As the woman staggered to the ground, Hadvar brought his sword down on her back, leaving a massive gash. He then killed her with thrust to the torso.

I had my shortbow out, and I drew an arrow from my quiver as I came up the stairs. The man was heading towards the first attacker, Ralof, when he noticed me. He had a shortsword in his hand. He changed direction towards me as he saw me nocking my arrow.

 _THUD!_

I released the arrow into the bandit's chest. He fell to knees as he died.

We headed towards the final bandit outside the barrow. He was guarding the crypt's large door. Ralof quickly finished him with an axe to the chest.

The rest of the bandits in the barrow were spread out through the barrow, making dealing with them easy as they were in either alone or with another singular bandit.

Eventually, we made it to a web-covered chamber. There were also egg pods around the floor with little spiders scurrying about. The entry ways were even covered in webbing, blocking entrance to the chamber.

We had to cut our way through the webs, in order to enter the chamber.

The was not a fun experience. As we sliced through the last of the webbing, a large frostbite spider dropped from the ceiling. Frostbite spiders get their name from their poison. This causes symptoms similar to frostbite in an expedited time. Frostbite spiders look like regular spiders, but have an abnormal size and more potent poison.

That means a large frostbite spider is about the size of over two horses. The size of the spider made for a terrifying experience as it landed in front of us.

It didn't help that a Dark Elf man was screaming in the distance. He was webbed in the doorframe opposite to our entrance.

The spider crawled towards us surprisingly fast. Hadvar swung his sword at the spider's legs as it came towards us.

The spider struck at Hadvar with one of it's legs, but Ralof slashed his axe into it.

The spider staggered backwards. I nocked an arrow and fired.

The arrow angered the spider. It spat frostbite venom at Hadvar and Ralof. They jumped out of the way though, narrowly missing its splash.

I fired another arrow. The spider started for me.

As it was frantically heading towards me, I was able to get one more shot off before rolling out of the way and running.

Because the spider moved forward, Hadvar and Ralof were now positioned behind the spider. They swung their weapons at its legs again.

It turned in a rage. It lashed its legs around, aiming for anything it could connect with.

One of the legs found a connection point, however, at Hadvar's chest. The spider smacked him across the room. His longsword clanked to the ground as he dropped it during his flight.

Luckily, his armour held, so his injuries weren't serious. He rose after that and rushed to pick up his sword again.

However, the spider was now focusing solely on Ralof. He was rushing around the spider, attempting to avoid its powerful legs and chopping at them at the same time.

I had an idea during this. Frostbite spiders are covered in tiny, matted hairs, and hair can catch on fire.

I grabbed three of my arrows in between my fingers and wrapped them in the webbing on the walls. I ignited one with my spell and fire the arrow at the spider. A patch of flames spouted from the impact wound.

I repeated this for my other two arrows.

The flames quickly grew to start covering the spider. Hadvar and Ralof used this development and continued to attack its legs. This, combined with the spider rushing in a panic to put out the fire and my arrows, cause the spider to collapse onto the ground due to pain.

Ralof used this chance to get in front of the spider and repeatedly chop it's head with his axe. Next, we had to deal with the man tied up in webs now that the spider was nothing but a burning, mangled corpse.

"You did it!", the Dark Elf exclaimed, "You killed it! Now, cut me down before anything else shows up."

Ralof was about to cut the elf down until I shot an arrow through him, killing him.

"What was that for? He was asking for our help! You don't kill people randomly!", Ralof shouted.

"He was the bandit who stole the claw.", I answered, "Do you see that little glint through the web?"

I pointed towards the dead elf's waist that was almost fully covered in webbing; however, there was a golden object which was poking through the webbing.

"Yes…", Ralof say, dejected.

I continued, "I shot him because he would've either attacked us or ran away after we released him. Now, we can just cut him down and loot him."

We did exactly that. I picked up the Golden Claw from the elf, Arvel the Swift according to the journal on his person, and we continued.

Most of the rest of our journey through the barrow was uneventful. We killed some draugr and kept on looking for the Dragonstone.

We made it to the last chamber after passing through an ancient Nordic puzzle door. It was a good-sized cavern. There was a path leading over a small stream and up to a central platform from the door. This platform had a chest, a table, a sarcophagus, and a strange wall like the one I found in Dustman's Cairn.

Hadvar and Ralof checked the rest of the cavern as I searched the platform. I looked around the table and picked the chest to search it, but there was no Dragonstone. I then went to look around the odd wall.

 _HET NOK FaaL VahLOK DeiNMaaR DO DOVahGOLZ ahRK aaN_ _ **FUS**_ _DO UNSLaaD RahGOL ahRK VULOM_

(Here lies the guardian, keeper of the dragonstone, and a force of unending rage and darkness)

I had the same strange feeling I did when I read the other wall in Dustman's Cairn. I turned to the sarcophagus at the edge of the platform. I tried openining it, but the tomb wouldn't open.

"Get up, you lazy undead idiot!", I demanded.

Hadvar and Ralof looked at my outrage with perplexity before going back to their task at hand.

I lowered my bow back into my pouch and retrieved my glaive. I started smacking the blunt end of the weapon into the sarcophagus.

That seemed to do the trick. A shout erupted from the tomb.

It sounded like "FUS", the word from the wall, and knocked the top of the sarcophagus off. A draugr wielding a large ancient battle axe arose from the metal box.

Ancient Nordic weapons and armour are often made of iron. The surviving ones (the previous more common and cheaper ones of the past were of lower quality and, therefore, more prone to rust and breaking) are often decorated with engravings of creatures and symbolic markings. If the weapon, or armour, was especially renowned, it was enchanted and/or named.

The draugr who came from this sarcophagus seemed to have one such enchanted weapon. An aura of cold came from the axe head. He brought it above his head and swung it down towards me.

I sidestepped to dodge the swing.

I then stretched my glaive to my and brought it upwards towards the draugr.

 _CLANG!_

The draugr blocked it with his battleaxe's shaft.

"FUS!", the draugr shouted.

I was knocked backwards. The draugr stepped towards me, raising the battleaxe again. It reminded me of Helgen's chopping block.

 _THUNK! THUD!_

Hadvar and Ralof shot two consecutive arrows into the draugrs back. It didn't drop the undead guardian, but it distracted him.

I then had my second idea for the day involving magic, specifically fire.

Magic is a very interesting thing. It must be directed through focal points on the body. Traditionally, this includes the palm, fingers, and fists. Feet are not commonly used, but when your hands are occupied by a glaive, you don't get much choice.

I felt my left foot start igniting. My boot was burning apart. I didn't want to risk the draugr turning back to me to finish chopping me apart, so I put all my focus into the most powerful fire blast I could conjure.

This was a terrible mistake.

When you're using unorthodox focal points with spells, focusing all of your remaining mental strength into a single spell has a potential side effect of passing out if unpracticed.

That was what happened to me. I went unconscious in the middle of a fight.

At least when it happened in Bleak Falls Barrow, it wasn't liable to be my last time alive.


	13. We're Doing What?

I woke up groggy and confused. I could see the ground moving bumpily. I then realized the ground wasn't the one moving.

I was being carried. I was draped over someone's shoulder.

"I don't get why I have to carry him.", the man carrying me complained.

It was Ralof.

"We're not leaving him in the barrow, Ralof.", Hadvar said.

"That's not what I meant.", Ralof corrected, "I'm saying that you should be the one to carry him."

Hadvar scoffed, "You were the one who said you were stronger. The strongest gets to carry him. It's your fault for bragging. Besides, I'm the one who got hit by that draugr's shout."

"Fine.", Ralof accepted, reluctantly.

I spoke up, "Or, I could walk."

Ralof jumped and dropped me in fright.

"Ow! Ralof, if you drop me again, I'm going to smack you.", I chided from the ground.

"Then don't scare me like that!", Ralof screamed.

Hadvar was chuckling.

"The big tough Nord got frightened by a man that he can pick up. Ha, that's a great start to your 'heroic tale'.", Hadvar teased.

"I wasn't frightened.", Ralof lied, "I was just… shocked. I thought he was going to sleep longer. The dropping him was to make sure he woke up. Yeah, that's it. I wanted him to be fully awake."

I started getting up from the ground, "Suu _uu_ re it was, Ralof. You keep telling yourself that. Maybe it'll become believable."

Ralof stewed in silence after that, and we continued back on the road to Whiterun.

I noticed that I could feel the ground with my bare left foot. I looked down. My left boot was missing.

Hadvar saw me glancing at my feet, "We took the rest of the boot off. After your 'flaming foot attack', we doubt you planned to keep something that didn't have much left of it anyways. It was kinda burnt apart."

"It's fine.", I assured him, "I dislike walking without shoes, but it's fine. Did I miss anything during my 'nap'?"

Ralof answered, "Well, we killed that draugr after you shot him off the platform with your 'fire feet'. We grabbed his surprisingly cold axe and put in your bag. Hadvar apparently thought it might be worth the money cause it was enchanted. We then gave the claw to the Riverwood trader. His sister kissed me, and he payed us. That's basically it. Now, we have to go give the Dragonstone to Farengar."

"We found the Dragonstone? It was actually there?", I wondered

"Aye.", Hadvar responded, "It was in that draugr's sarcophagus."

We continued until we made it into the city and through Dragonsreach's doors.

Walking into Dragonsreach with one shoe kinda takes away from the grandeur of entering the building.

"You two wait by the door.", I commanded, "I'll go give the stone to Farengar, and then we can go celebrate at the Drunken Huntsman. Do I have the Dragonstone in my pouch, or did one of you carry it?"

"We put it in the pouch when we put that draugr's axe in.", Hadvar replied.

"Okay, well you two wait here. I'll be back soon.", I walked through the mess hall to Farengar's chamber.

He was in the middle of discussing with a cloaked figure. The other person appeared to be a woman from what I could tell through the brown cloak. They were standing in front of his cluttered desk.

The woman spoke to the Court Wizard, "Time is running, Farengar, don't forget. This isn't some theoretical question. Dragons have come back."

"Yes, yes. Don't worry.", Farengar assured her, "Although the chance to see a living dragon up close would be tremendously valuable. Now, let me show you something else I found very… intriguing."

He pointed to a paper on his desk.

He continued, "I think your employers may be interested as well-…"

The woman looked up from the desk, "You have a visitor."

"Hmm.", Fargenar looked at the doorway, towards me, "Ah, yes, one of the Jarl's proteges! Back from Bleak Falls Barrow? You didn't die, it seems."

"I didn't die. I did, however, bring you this.", I took the Dragonstone from my belt pouch and handed it to Farengar.

"Ah!", he exclaimed, "The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow! Seems you are a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl sends my way. My... 'associate' here will be pleased to see your handiwork. She discovered its location, by means she has so far declined to share with me."

He turned to his associate, "So your information was correct after all, and we have our friend here to thank for recovering it for us."

"You went into Bleak Falls Barrow and got that? Nice work.", she congratulated me and then turned back to Farengar, "Just send me a copy when you've deciphered it."

I heard feet running just outside the door way of the Wizard's chamber. I turned and saw Irileth coming into the room.

"Farengar! Farengar, you need to come at once.", she urged, "A dragon's been sighted nearby."

She looked at me, "You should come, too."

"A dragon?", he wondered, "How exciting! Where was it seen? What was it doing?"

Irileth snapped back, "I'd take this a bit more seriously if I were you! If a dragon decides to attack Whiterun, I don't know if we can stop it. Let's go."

Farengar and Irileth ran out of the room. I followed them to some stairs that lead to the second floor. It appeared to be a planning room. There was a table with a map and war models laid on it. There were also bookshelves lined with scrolls and books.

Jarl Balgruuf was speaking with a guard as we ran in.

"So, Irileth tells me you came from the western watchtower?", The Jarl asked the guard.

The guard panted. "Yes, my lord."

"Tell him what you told me, about the dragon.", Irileth suggested.

"Uh... that's right.", the guard stammered. "We saw it coming from the south. It was fast... faster than anything I've ever seen."

The Jarl interrogated, "What did it do? Is it attacking the watchtower?"

"No, my lord.", the guard was breathing heavy, "It was just circling overhead when I left. I never ran so fast in my life... I thought it would come after me for sure."

"Good work, son. We'll take it from here.", Balgruuf consoled, "Head down to the barracks for some food and rest. You've earned it."

The guard walked away slowly, weary with exhaustion, and the Jarl turned to the dark elf, "Irileth, you'd better gather some guardsmen and get down there."

"I've already ordered my men to muster near the main gate.", she said.

"Good. Don't fail me.", the Jarl faced me, ""There's no time to stand on ceremony, my friend. I need you and your friends' help again. I want you to go with Irileth and help her fight this Dragon. You survived Helgen, so you have more experience with dragons than anyone else here. But I haven't forgotten the service you did for me in retrieving the Dragonstone for Farengar. As a token of my esteem, I have instructed Avenicci that you are now permitted to purchase property in the city. And I'll give you a gift from my personal armory once you return."

Farengar interrupted, "I should come along. I would very much like to see this dragon."

The wizard was bouncing with excitement.

"No.", the Jarl ordered, "I can't afford to risk both of you. I need you here working on ways to defend the city against these dragons."

"As you command.", Farengar relented.

Balgruuf turned to Irileth and whispered, "One last thing, Irileth. This isn't a death or glory mission. I need to know what we're dealing with."

Irileth reassured the Jarl, "Don't worry, my lord. I'm the very soul of caution."

Irileth rushed down the stairs. Farengar followed at a slower pace.

"Help Irileth kill this dragon before it can attack Whiterun.", the Jarl requested as I went to join them down stairs, "There's no time to lose. Time is of the essence."

I ran down the stairs and towards Dragonsreach's doors.

"Hadvar! Ralof!", I called out as I ran towards them, "I hope you're ready to fight! We're hunting dragons!"


	14. Watchertower Plus Dragon Equals Weird

"WE'RE DOING WHAT?", Ralof shouted as we ran through the city towards the gates.

"I said we're hunting a dragon.", I called out while running, "You should pay more attention."

We continued on our way to Whiterun Hold's Western Watchtower. We went through the city's districts, out the gates, and along the road to the right of the city. This was the road that led directly to the watchtower.

When we got closer to the tower, there was flames covering the plains area around the tower. Ruble from the building was scattered about the burning grass. The tower had holes in its structure from where the ruble originated.

There was a medium sized rock just off the road. We went to it because there were two guardsmen laying by it. They were dead. They had dropped their bows and swords. Their corpses were partially charred. Their armour was melded with their skin. The stench was horrible.

I had to hold back the urge to gag.

"Ralof, Hadvar, you might want to keep those bows they have.", I suggested as I struggled to not vomit.

"What?", Ralof sounded offended, "I'm not stealing from the dead."

Hadvar seemed to be less reluctant as he reached down and picked the closest one.

"Ralof.", I said, "They died fighting the dragon, and they had the bows. Do you want to take the chance without a bow when their sacrifices could mean we live?"

"No…", he relented. Ralof picked up the other bow.

I continued, "There's probably some quivers with arrows in the tower. Go fetch them before that dragon comes back."

Ralof and Hadvar jogged to the watchtower. I stood guard at our spot by the rock.

Hadvar and Ralof apparently grabbed the quivers with arrows, but they weren't the only ones in the tower. A guardsman was ushering them out of the tower.

"No! Get back!", he shouted, "It's still here somewhere! Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it!"

Irileth and the reinforcements were in view along the road as Hadvar and Ralof were pushed away from the tower. They were hurrying to the tower as fast as possible.

Irileth called out, "Guardsman! What happened here? Where's this dragon? Quickly now!"

"I don't know!", he answered.

There was a roar in the distance. Everyone looked to the sky. A large, scaly bronze figure was flying in the distance.

The guardsman trembled, "Kynareth save us, here he comes again..."

"Here he comes!" Irileth barked, "Find cover and make every arrow count!"

The dragon flew overhead us.

"YOL TOOR SHUL", it shouted.

Flames spewed from the dragon's mouth onto the ground below, onto the ground we were scurrying about. Everyone ran every direction. We searched for any cover we could from the flames.

Some of the guards got stuck in the direct path of the flames. They didn't last long.

The dragon flew away again. It was preparing for another sweep.

Me, our group of guards, a dark elf housecarl, and a Stormcloak took this chance to aim. We shot a volley of arrows at the dragon until it got close enough for another attack.

"YOL TOOR SHUL", fire projected from the dragon's maw again.

1/4 of the guards Irileth came with had been wiped out by these two attacks. Their bodies were still laying in the flaming fields around the watchtower. We continued this dangerous pattern a few more times. The dragon flew around, shouting flames at us, and were running around, trying to avoid the fire, occasionally firing arrows when we could.

Eventually, the dragon landed. It thrashed around, trying to hit anyone it could. It swung its powerful tail about, smacking any guards foolish enough to be near it. It bit at anyone it could clentch its teeth on.

Our numbers were dwindling. We went from approximately 40-something good men to 15, including me, Ralof, Hadvar, and Irileth.

It went back to the air, incinerating anyone its flames got hold of.

I was crouched behind a rock during one of the airstrikes. I had time to think for a second because I was (relatively) safe.

The dragon's shouts felt similar to the markings from the strange wall in Dustman's Cairn. I remember seeing something that seemed to be "YOL".

We needed to get this dragon to stop 'speaking' somehow, but first, we had to get better cover.

"EVERYONE!", I shouted as I ran towards the crumbling tower, "RETREAT TO THE TOWER!"

I'm surprised anyone listened to me, or that they even heard me over the fighting.

Everyone ran panickily to the tower, firing off arrows in order to provide cover as they made their way to it.

The dragon was still breathing flames at the ground for a minute or so. This allowed us time to plan.

"We're here, now what?", Irileth questioned.

I responded, "We get into position. Three men go to the roof, three go to the hole in the wall that's by along the stairs, five go outside to shoot the dragon while it's not in our sights, and you, me, Hadvar, and Ralof will be around the door to the tower.

The guards looked to Irileth for reassurance. It seemed they didn't trust my idea of where we should be placed. That was quickly squelched by Irileth, however.

"You heard the Imperial!", she ordered.

Everyone moved to their allotted position.

The dragon had realized we were mostly hiding in the tower by now. It flew around the tower in a spiral fashion, shouting flames at every part of the tower. It then landed in front of the doorway to the tower.

It tried to fit its head through the entrance way, but it failed due to size. That, however, didn't stop it from blasting flames into the tower's first floor, the floor we were on.

We all pressed ourselves against the walls, hoping to avoid the blast (almost all of us, at least).

Hadvar decided to test out the effectiveness of his armour's enchantment in the middle of our fight. He drew his gladius as he hurried towards the dragon's head and stabbed it through its lower jaw.

The dragon stopped breathing fire after that.

It withdrew from the tower in pain.

The dragon labored to speak again, "Vokrii… Dii… HAAS!"

I wasn't sure exactly what that was supposed to do, but the dragon's wounds started closing up rapidly. The arrows from it's body pushed out; furthermore, there were no holes from the arrows. The stab wounds from it's jaw healed.

The dragon seemed to be back in perfect health. That was very bad news.

"FUS RO DAH!", the dragon shouted.

The tower started shaking. Pieces of cobblestone was crumbling from the ceiling and walls.

"FUS RO DAH!"

The watchtower shook more. Cracks appeared in the tower's structure. Our organization fell apart. Everyone ran from their position and charged the dragon from the tower's doorway.

The dragon could easily tear the guards apart from the chokehold at the door. He bit at anyone who got through the doorway that he could get a hold of.

Everyone outside the tower was getting worried. We were down to about eight men now, from the original 40-something. They were backing away from the dragon. It looked like everyone was about to run away entirely, which would've left me trapped with the dragon.

I was thinking about the first word it said after it shouted at the tower.

Fus. It felt familiar now. It felt powerful. It felt like a force.

No, let me rephrase that. It didn't feel like a force. It felt like force.

I concentrated on that word, on the power behind it, on the meaning I felt it had.

I went to the spot that the tower looked weakest. I breathed in.

"FUS!"

Nothing happened.

I went again.

"FUS!"

The fighting seemed to be slowing. The only action happening was arrows flying about and the dragon trying to figure who to kill first.

I continued.

"FUS! FUS! FUS! FUS! FUS! FUS!"

I panted. I went one more time.

 _FUS!_

That time actually did something. The direction I was shouting at now had a hole in it. The tower was now falling as well.

Before the tower collapsed with me in it, I ran out of the newly made hole. The dragon, however, was not so lucky.

The direction that the tower fell was facing where the doorway previously was. This also happened to be where the dragon was landed.

The entirety of the watchtower crashed into the dragon, crushing it. The dragon appeared to try and get out from the ruble, but it failed to escape before dying.

One would think fighting a dragon would be the strangest thing to happen that day. They would be incorrect, just as I was.

The pile of ruble was glowing with a mixture of orange, yellow, red, and white light. It swirled out from the openings.

Luckily, everyone was not near the corpse of the dragon. This meant that the weird swirling light energy wouldn't affect them.

Unluckily, it decided to head after someone anyways, me. The weird swirly lights whipped past me, wrapping itself around me.

It felt strange. I had memories that weren't mine clouding in my head, thoughts that weren't mine, feelings that weren't mine. They didn't feel human. It felt more… ambitious, driven, dangerous.

It was a soul. It was the soul of the dragon that I had crushed with a tower, Mirmulnir.

After that, I didn't exactly pay attention. It's a bit of an overwhelming experience absorbing the entire soul of a being more vastly more powerful and older than you for the first time. It causes confusion while you're trying to sort out what part is you and what part is the dragon.

Some of the guards tried talking to me, but I zoned out. I only started to zone back in after everyone but Hadvar and Ralof left. They were discussing amongst each other until they turned to me.

"Max!", Ralof smacked the bridge of my nose.

I stumbled backwards, "Ow! What was that for?"

"You weren't paying attention.", Ralof said.

"So you thought that smacking me was the nicest way to help?", I questioned.

Ralof mocked, "It worked, didn't it?"

"Yes…", I accepted, "Fine, what are we doing now exactly? If you haven't noticed, I haven't been paying attention."

Hadvar spoke up, "Well… there might've been something that happened while you were being weird."

"What?", I asked.

"See…", Hadvar continued, "There was this loud calling coming from the sky. It was saying 'Dovahkiin'. Ralof seems to think that it was-…"

Ralof interrupted, "They were the Greybeards. They were calling you. You're the Dragonborn!"


	15. Dragon's Day

"What?", I asked Ralof.

He explained, "You're dragonborn. A mortal with the blood of a dragon. That must be why you absorbed that energy from the dragon as well. It was its soul."

I, still puzzled, reiterated, "What?"

Hadvar came to my rescue, "I think what Ralof is trying to say is that you might be the one who was called by those voices. The timing is too coincidental to be something different."

"My name's Maximus Blackwell. My name isn't whoever this 'Dovahkiin' is.", I said.

"I know!", Ralof interjected, "But, this is too simultaneous to be disconnected. I think we should go to tell the Jarl right away! He'll know what to do."

Hadvar agreed, "He's probably right. The Jarl might have some idea of what's going on now, and what we should do."

"Or…", I pondered, "You two go to the Jarl while I get some rest. I don't know what the freak happened today, but I'm drained. You tell me what he says, and we'll go from there."

"The Jarl will want to hear from you personally though. It'd be wise to please the Jarl.", Ralof advised.

I agreed, "You're right, but I'm missing a boot. I'm tired. Also, we just fought a dragon, and I yelled at a tower until it fell on top of said dragon. So, I'm going to rest. I can deal with other stuff later."

"Okay…", Ralof accepted reluctantly.

With that discussion over, Ralof, Hadvar, and I went our separate ways for the rest of the day. I headed back to Jorrvaskr to my bed in the member's rest area. I fell asleep as soon as I laid on the mattress.

After what I later discovered to be 16 hours (I was apparently quite tired), I awoke from my sleep. I opened my eyes only to see nothing still. I moved my hand to my face in an attempt to grab and remove whatever was blocking my vision.

It was a boot. Someone had apparently placed a boot on my face in my sleep. There was also a note in the boot that read: "Maxiumus, we went to the Jarl, and he said he was throwing a feast in honor of our defeat of the dragon and those lost during the fight. He also said he wanted you, specifically, to be there. We have to be there the day after tomorrow around evening.

P.S. Ralof fetched you a new boot from Eorlund, and I told him to leave the note with it just in case one of them got lost."

Note to self: never let Ralof deliver stuff to anyone in their sleep.

I put the boot on and headed out of Jorrvaskr. I went back to site of the now destroyed Western Whiterun Watchtower. I wanted to see if any thing there could give me an idea on what happened.

When I arrived, I saw that the rubble and the dragon's corpse were still there. The cobblestone of the tower was piled upon the deceased dragon and along the scorched land around it.

I wanted to get see the dragon's corpse up close for observation purposes. That was hindered, however, by the stone covering it. I needed to move that first. The only way I could do that without gathering men for assistance would be to repeat what I did when I collapsed the tower, so I breathed in.

 _FUS!_

The pile of rubble rolled off the dragon. The dragon's corpse shook from the force. I had a clear view of the dragon now, at least. I retrieved my dagger from my pouch for an exploratory autopsy.

I decided to grab my journal to record any important findings. Some of the things I did find were quite interesting. Most of the arrows didn't penetrate past the scales, which implies that the scales (and the hide considering the difficulty I had removing it) have high durability. Dragons are quite dense overall, but this is due to their bones mostly. Their bones are fully solid (this was discovered by removing bones from the body) and extremely resistant to impacts (this was discovered by none of them being damaged at all by the tower impact). There is also an innate resistance to fire in this dragon's hide (this I discovered by using my flames spell on the hide).

I spent the rest of that day removing parts of the dragon for study and/or use and placing them in my pouch, until I headed back to Whiterun for food, bathing, and rest.

When I awoke, it appeared that the city was livelier than it usually is. People were crowding in the Wind District. Traditionally, the Cloud District is the more peaceful district, compared to the Plains District. This did not appear to be the case today.

These masses made finding Hadvar and Ralof more difficult, but I was able to locate them at one of the benches around the Gildergreen.

"What's going on today?", I asked.

"Do you remember that honoring we discussed yesterday?", Hadvar replied.

"Yeah, what about it?", I said.

"It's happening today. This is just the festivities part of the celebration.", He answered.

Ralof interjected while smirking, "I see you found your boot."

"I did find my boot.", I affirmed, "I also found the note, and I recently found the temptation to kick you with my new boot."

Ralof chuckled, "I said I'd get you a boot. I never said where I'd place it."

"Well", I mocked, "I can think of a suitable location to place it for you-…"

Hadvar interrupted me, "As funny as watching you two bicker would be, we should probably discuss something that Irileth spoke to me about."

"What did the Dunmer say?", Ralof questioned.

"Well…", Hadvar mumbled, "the dragon from the watchtower seems to… How do I put this, it's been field stripped like a buck by a hunter? "

"What?" Ralof exclaimed.

Hadvar continued, "Yes, the dragon seems to have been deconstructed by someone. It's missing over a quarter, maybe half, of its organs, hide, and other organs. We do not know who, but we're worried it might be a security risk."

I spoke up, "It's not."

Hadvar squinted at me, "How would you know so?",

"I'm the one who did that.", I answered, and continued to explain, "I wanted to learn about the dragon's physiology for weaknesses. I learnt they have very few weaknesses, discounting the mouth, eyes, and wings. I did, however, learn they could be potentially useful for crating stuff in the way other animals are. I'm considering speaking to someone who's adept at that for advice on how to do so."

"Wait.", Ralof said, "You field stripped a _dragon_ for _research_ by yourself?"

"Yes"

"When did you learn to field strip a dragon?", Ralof exclaimed.

"See, before I crossed into Skyrim, my parents often left me to my own devices. This meant I could do things like read or hunt, and that allowed me to apply similar methods of stripping to-…"

Hadvar interrupted, "Enough explaining, please. We should address what we're going to tell Irileth. She asked me to look into it, so I have to tell her something."

I thought for a second, "You should tell her the truth. I deconstructed the dragon for my own research and use. That's all that happened. There is no threat."

"Fine.", Hadvar accepted.

Eventually, we headed to Dragonsreach. This was difficult to do while travelling through the crowds, but we made it past the people.

The main hall was filled with members of the court. Members from the guard and a few wealthy families also attended.

"Ah, our guests of honor have arrived!", the Jarl boomed as we made our way up the stairs and past the tables, "Please, come here."

Jarl Balgruuf rose from his throne.

"You've done a great deed for me and my city, you three.", he started, "we owe you a great debt, as we do to all those who fought so valiantly for our city."

He pointed to Ralof, "I'm offering you, Ralof of Riverwood, a position as a private contractor. You and your crew of fighters will be offered premier jobs, either in our hold or out, if you so wish to accept."

"It would be my honor, my Jarl", Ralof said.

"Now.", Balgruuf motioned for Hadvar to come up, "This man has been assisting us in preparations for the dragons. He came to us with any information he had to give us and concocted an idea. He thought that we should develop an elite unit of guard to defend against specialized threats, like the dragons. We never decided if building this unit it would be worth it. This attack has made me decide that it would be worth it, so I am naming Hadvar of Riverwood as captain of the new unit, the Dragonguard!"

Ralof and Hadvar stood to both sides of the Jarl.

He motioned for me to step forward, "Finally, Maximus Blackwell, by my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It's the greatest honor that's within my power to grant. I assign you Lydia as a personal Housecarl."

A servant came carrying a large axe with a parchment of paper as the Jarl nodded, "And, this weapon from my armory to serve as your badge of office."

The servant placed the axe and paper in my hands as the Jarl continued, "I'll also notify my guards of your new title. Wouldn't want them to think you're part of the common rabble, now would we? We are honored to have you as Thane of our city… Dragonborn."

I scurried to next to Ralof after the Jarl's congratulations.

"Now.", Balgruuf started to close his speech, "We'd also like to thank the guard for those their bravery in the face of death, and I'd like to personally honor my housecarl, Irileth, for organizing all these men to combat this threat with determination and courage. And, for all those who lost their lives or loved ones in the attack, I am truly sorry for your lose. Our solace is that they're enjoying the comradery of Sovngarde."

The Jarl grabbed his mug from his chair and raised it, as did all the guest in the hall, "But, enough of such a gloomy topic, Let us celebrate our victory!"

And, with that, the celebration, soon to be know as Dragon's Day, came to a start.


	16. Meeting A Future Ghost

After Dragon's Day Festival, the Jarl had Proventus, his balding steward, summon me to his planning room. He was pacing around the strategy table when I rounded the stairs.

Balgruuf glanced towards me as approached him, "Ah, good, you made it. I never got a chance to speak to you after the dragon was slain at the watchtower."

"Yeah", I responded, "I was tired, so I headed straight to a place to rest instead of here. I figured Ralof, Hadvar, or Irlieth would fill you in on the story."

The Jarl chuckled, surprisingly, "It's fine, no need to defend yourself to me. If I fought a dragon and absorbed its soul for the first time, I'd be tuckered out too. However, I want to hear what happened from your perspective, if you don't mind."

"Well, how much do you know?", I asked.

He started, "I know you shouted my watchtower to ruble onto the dragon, that you went back and stripped most of its skin, bones, and organs (much to Farengar's dismay, I might add), and that you're were summoned by the Greybeards… Dragonborn."

I noticed he kept putting emphasis on the title, Dragonborn, like it meant something more special than being destined for being a weapon. Or, maybe he knew it was destined for that, Nords placed an irrational importance on people being weapons before people. Their culture thought it was better to die in battle than to live. Facing your enemies with honor was better than survival or winning dishonorably. They made great warriors and generals traditionally. They weren't the best at figuring out what was better for the whole of the world.

"So, Blackwell,", he called, "what happened at the watchtower?"

I blinked, "Right, yes. We got to the tower after the dragon's first attack. It set fire the surrounding field and destroyed some of the tower. One of the guards came out of the tower, warning us away. Then, the dragon came back. It decimated us."

"Yes.", The Jarl said solemnly, "40 men cut down to under ten."

"That's what the Dragonguard is supposed to prevent", I commented.

The Jarl shouted, "Damn it all to Sovngarde! This can't be allowed to happen again!"

"It won't. I'll try to make sure of it."

The Jarl breathed in, "No. You have to go to High Hrothgar. The Greybeards have summoned the Dragonborn, and it'd be in bad form to refuse that."

Puzzled, I asked, "The Greybeards? What do they want with me?"

"That's the Greybeards' business,", Balgruuf answered, "not ours. Whatever happened when you killed that dragon, it revealed something in you, and the Greybeards heard it. If they think you're Dragonborn, who are we to argue? You'd better get up to High Hrothgar immediately. There's no refusing the summons of the Greybeards. It's a tremendous honor."

"Who are these Greybeards anyways?" I exclaimed, "I can't protect Whiterun very well if I'm scurrying off at the call of what sounds like a group of random old men."

The Jarl shook his head, "They're the Masters of the Way of the Voice - of Shouting. They live up on top of the Throat of the World. If you're really Dragonborn, they'll want to talk to you. In the old stories, they always summon the Dragonborn for training."

I considered, "What does being this 'Dragonborn' even have to do with anything? I'm quite certain I can organize protections _without_ this special training."

"Well,", The Jarl explained, "in the old tales, the Dragonborn heroes would use the power of their Voice to defeat the enemies of Skyrim. Wulfharth was Dragonborn. Talos, too - the founder of the Empire, back in the good old days. In the very oldest tales, back from when there still were dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons and steal their power."

This was the first time I got interested in being the Dragonborn. I've heard of the name before the death of Mirmulnir, but it never really made sense to me till now, at least that's what I thought. I thought it was just a title like any other, but it wasn't. It's a chance for power that would be unmatchable to any. I'd never have to be as helpless as I was in Helgen on that day.

But, there were other preparations to be made. I had combat training to do before I could consider fighting anything as deadly as a dragon again. I needed more sway with the Companions in order to use them as a special force. There was information to collect and resources to gather.

"Blackwell,", Balgruuf interrupted my thinking, "I can't force you to make the pilgrimage, but I urge you to head to them as soon as possible. I'm not sure we can face this threat without a better understanding of what you're capable of."

I stayed silent for a few second before responding, "I've considered your urging. I understand your sentiment, but I can't go to them yet. I'm sorry; I have work to do first. I swear to head to High Hrothgar as soon as possible; however, I can not while Whiterun and I are unprepared for these threats."

The Jarl sighed, "If I could change your mind, I would, but it seems you're set. I have one request though: please prepare quickly. You'll need to go to the Greybeards eventually if you hope to combat these dragons properly; the sooner you do, the better. You may take your leave now, Thane."

With that, I left the planning room and headed towards Dragonsreach main doors. I was intercepted by a tall brown haired woman clad in steel armor fitted with fur that flowed from underneath the plating.

"I'm Lydia.", the woman said in a surprisingly soft voice, "The Jarl has appointed me to be your housecarl. It's an honor to serve you."

"Ah, and what's being a housecarl even imply?", I wondered.

She started to explain, "As my Thane, I'm sworn to your service. I'll guard you, and all you own, with my life."

That job description felt a bit dramatic to me, but I didn't risk offending her with that thought, "Hmm, well, that sounds interesting, follow me then."

"As you will, my Thane. I will protect you with my life.", she swore.

Getting used to constantly being called by a title was a jarring shift, but eventually things got better over time. At least, until now, where I'm stuck dying in the snow.

Where she died.


	17. Maximus Blackwolf Or Was It Blackwell

Since Dragon's Day, Hadvar, Ralof, and I had set our sights on our own tasks. Hadvar was busy selecting promising guards to the Dragonguard and building a training regime for them. Ralof and his recruited mercenaries have been doing jobs around Whiterun hold. Recently, they got hired for a job involving bandits near Falkreath. Me and Lydia, on the other hand, spent our time following through on the contracts I got from Companions.

I headed to Jorrvaskr to collect a new contract, actually. I intercepted Aela, the red headed huntress, in the mess hall.

"Still eager to please?", she asked, "This is good. Skjor may be right about you. He has something special planned for you, better talk to him, in his room."

With that, I headed into Jorrvaskr's living quarters, to Skjor's room in the Circle's section. He was finishing latching up the straps on his steel wolf engraved armor's boots as I entered his room.

"Skjor.", I said, "Aela said you were looking for me. Why?"

He started standing after he finished with his boot, "Yes, I have something special for you."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Skjor cut me off, "But it's not for everyone to hear. Meet me in the Underforge tonight. We will speak more."

"The what?", I asked.

"Ah.", he responded, "I forget that you've never seen it. Beneath the Skyforge, where Eorlund works, the door is hidden, but I will show you the way… not now. The Underforge, tonight."

He walked over to his bookshelf that had mugs scattered upon it and grabbed one. Considering he didn't speak after that, I assumed he no longer in, for him at least, a talkative mood.

I left the living quarters and went to the training yard after my 'lengthy' discussion with Skjor. I spent most of the time practicing on dummies and targets until it was time.

First, Aela, walked to the bottom of the Skyforge's rock base. She activated a button located on/in the rock face. It was hard to tell from my current angle, but the rock responded to her action. A chunk of rock started sliding down into the ground, leading to a dark passage. She walked through, and it started closing behind her after approximately a minute.

I waited till Skjor came out Jorrvaskr's door and into the training yard. I walked up to him

I was about to say something, but he spoke, "Are you prepared?"

"Prepared for…?", I questioned.

"Here's all you need to know.", he explained, "Jorrvaskr is the oldest building in Whiterun. The Skyforge was here long before it was. And, the Underforge taps an ancient magic that is older than men or elves. We bring you here to make you stronger, new blood. Now, let's move."

With that, he headed to Skyforge's base and reached his hand into a small crevice in the rock face. The rock slided down again, and he walked into the tunnel. I followed.

The tunnel was short but dark. It led to a small room walled by the rough rocks of Skyforge's base. It was sparsely lit, with only a small window at the back of the room allowing the moonlight in. It was hard to make out much, but there was a few things I could notice distinctively.

Skjor was standing to the side of a ceremonial stone bowl on a pedestal that was in the center of the room. The bowl on the pedestal, however, wasn't the most interesting thing in the room.

Directly behind the bowl, a hulking mass of approximately 2 ½ meters of brown fur and pure muscle was standing.

A werewolf was in the Underforge.

Skjor turned to me, "I'm glad you came. It's been a long time since we had a heart like yours among our numbers. That pitiful ceremony behind the hall does not befit warriors like us. You are due more honor than some calls and feasting. I would hope you recognize Aela, even in this form."

As he pointed it out, I saw the beast's eyes. It was the same stormy color as Aela's, with the exception of a ring of piercing yellow adoring their edges.

"She's agreed to be your forebear.", Skjor continued, "We do this in secret because Kodlak is too busy trying to throw away this great gift we've been granted. He thinks we've been cursed, but we've been blessed. How can something that gives this kind of prowess be a curse? So, we take matters into our own hands. To reach the heights of the Companions, you must join with us in the shared blood of the wolf."

"Are you prepared to join your spirit with the beast world, friend?", he asked.

This was a very interesting development, in my opinion. I knew the Companions were werewolves from my test with Farkas as my Shield-Brother where he tore apart the Silver Hand, literally.

But, I didn't know if I wanted to join my spirit to anything. Werewolves get their power from the Daedric Lord, Hircine. If you accept his gift, you must honor him and remain in his realm after death. There's also the fact that, in a lot of cases, a lycanthrope ends up going mad from the blessing/curse. They lose control often and sometimes, they are unable to turn back into man because their will can not hold up against the beast's savagery.

This makes accepting the Companion's offer a very worrying thing, but there's a certain draw to lycanthropy. The power of a wolf is a tempting thing. You become stronger than almost any other man naturally. Your senses become enhanced to the point that they rival predators of the wild. One rarely tires from physical exhaustion, and you're never going to be sleep deprived.

I needed power, though. I have to take as much power as I can get, in order to face the dragons. And, because I wasn't going to High Hrothgar yet, I needed to take what I could get.

I took a deep breath.

"Yes.", I stated.

"Very well", Skjor said.

He drew his sword from its sheathe at his hip. He grabbed Aela's arm and raised it above the bowl. He slowly drew his blade across her arm. Crimson flowed into the bowl, first slowly but then more rapidly.

Aela's blood filled the container about halfway.

"The blood calls, brother,", he said ominously, "and waits for you to drink from the fountain."

I stepped towards the bowl and cupped my hands into it. I brought them to my mouth, with Aela's blood contained in them, and drank.

Now, most would expect a surge of power or an intense pain, something to indicate that you've changed yourself majorly.

I had neither of these things. Instead, I blacked out.


End file.
